


Broken Hearts and Bleeding Lips

by caleyedoscope



Series: Faerlamore [4]
Category: DBSK | Tohoshinki | TVfXQ | TVXQ, K-pop
Genre: Alternate Universe - Slavery, F/M, M/M, Master/Slave
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-10
Updated: 2014-01-10
Packaged: 2018-01-08 06:10:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 22,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1129254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caleyedoscope/pseuds/caleyedoscope
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jaejoong finds a wife for Yunho, and she’s perfect for him. In fact she’s so perfect, Yunho starts to ignore his Faerlamore and Jaejoong wishes he’d never meddled in anyone’s business and wonders if he can ever get back into Yunho’s good graces.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Broken Hearts and Bleeding Lips

Their faces do not please Jaejoong in the least. In fact, the longer he looks at the them, the angrier he gets and the uglier they seem. He’s been sitting here for hours now, watching them blush and titter and hide behind their delicate fans as his master questions each of them.

“Jaejoong,” Yunho says from behind him, and it’s a gentle warning. For once, Jaejoong isn’t facing his master. He’s looking out, observing all of Yunho’s perspective brides with a cold demeanor. “Be still,” Yunho murmurs, a hand on his shoulder. Jaejoong’s must have tensed, he must have fidgeted something awful without realizing it, because the fingers press against his bare skin a moment before the hand tangles into his hair and tugs a bit too sharply, until Jaejoong’s straight-backed and unmoving again. “Stay.” It’s another warning, in the tone of voice Jaejoong hates, the one that means there are people watching and Jaejoong is being treated like a slave and that Yunho is _displeased_ with everything. He might be able to say ‘I love you’ now, but Yunho had made it extremely evident that they are still Master and Faerlamore.

Nothing will ever change that, Jaejoong knows, this is his social status and it will remain thus until he dies.

“Yes, Master.” 

The hand in his hair doesn’t move away. 

One of the ladies snorts, eyeing Jaejoong with a little disdain from behind a light blue fan painted with puffy clouds and yellow birds. The slow drag of Yunho’s thumb against the nape of Jaejoong’s neck assures him that this lady will not be chosen as Yunho’s bride. Only his years of practice keep a smirk off of Jaejoong’s face. They haven’t seen the contract Yunho has waiting for them and Jaejoong can only imagine what they’re going to think of that. More than likely, at least half of them will walk away.

He tunes most of the conversation out as it resumes, concentrating on Yunho’s hand that doesn’t seem like it’s leaving Jaejoong’s hair any time soon. He pushes back into it when Yunho starts to scratch, allows a contented smile creep across his face and his eyes flutter shut as Yunho handles him. It’s a show they’d previously agreed on, one to gauge the reactions of the ladies present. They need someone that will not be perturbed by this. A few of them are smiling when Jaejoong finally flits his gaze around the room, a few look a little embarrassed, which Jaejoong judges to be fine (he and Yunho can admittedly get out of hand,) but about half either have one or both eyebrows raised, a few outwardly scoffing. Mentally, Jaejoong crosses them of their list. 

He doesn’t want to deal with people that don’t want to deal with him and they won’t have a lot of time to get used to it. As soon as Yunho chooses a girl, the marriage is going to take place. It’s all very political, after all, not reason to drag it out and hope they fall in love. The best any of them are hoping for is an easy companionship. Jaejoong’s been planning the wedding feast menu for months, ready to procure the ingredients at the drop of a hat. It should be days, now, before someone else shares Yunho’s bed.

The thought makes Jaejoong want to scowl and he only barely contains himself.

Yunho is _his_.

It’s another hour before Yunho dismisses them, in which time Jaejoong had started to fidget again. Yunho had eventually turned him around, his back to the ladies, and while Jaejoong appreciates not having to look at them anymore, it means Yunho’s mad at him for not being able to keep his composure. It hadn’t actually been Jaejoong’s goal, but Yunho’s not seriously upset, so in the end, it will only mean good things. Yunho’s irritated huff when Jaejoong grins at him only confirms this.

“I have to chose someone, Jaejoong.”

“I know. Doesn’t mean I have to like it, though.”

“It would help me a lot if you were on my side.”

“I’m always on your side.”

“Not in this you aren’t. If you were, you’d behave and have a genuine smile on your face.” He poked Jaejoong’s cheek as if to make his point. 

“This is a big decision.”

Yunho pauses, before leaning in and kissing Jaejoong chastely. “It is. Which is why I need you to help me.”

“You know who I want you to pick.” 

“We’ve been over this. Her father has already promised her to someone else.”

“An extremely shady excuse.”

“Jaejoong,” Yunho sighs, “even if I could have her, you would be upset about it. I want you to get over it. I need you on my side no matter who I chose to marry. That’s the end of this.”

Jaejoong tilts his head, eyebrow raising. “Is it?” He’s been asserting himself a little more, testing the waters after an enlightening discussion with Yunho about a certain kink of his. But it doesn’t always work.

Fingers pinch his ear hard and Jaejoong’s eyes water. “I have to get married, Jaejoong, and I am giving you a chance to weigh in with your opinion.”

It isn’t permission to speak, so Jaejoong waits, listening to Yunho take in harsh breaths before releasing the ear and crumpling onto the floor beside his slave. “You know I don’t really want to do this either.”

“You might want it even less than I do.”

Yunho turns his head into Jaejoong’s neck, breathing deeply as he tangles their fingers together and they sit against Yunho’s big chair in his audience hall and stare out at the emptiness together. Jaejoong can see the dust floating in the rays of sunlight streaming down from the windows. “I’m sorry,” Jaejoong murmurs.

“You can apologize tonight. I’m not interested right now.”

Jaejoong very nearly licks his lips in anticipation.

“What else do you need to accomplish today?”

“I have to go to the market for a little while. But other than that, nothing.”

“What’s at the market?”

“Ingredients for one. Your potential wives might be cooking you meals tonight, but that doesn’t mean I expect them to be perfect. Back up plans are my lifeline.”

He gets a kiss for his trouble and that’s all he needs, really. “I have to meet with an ambassador in an hour or so, so I guess I’ll see you at dinner.” He kisses Jaejoong again, and again, and they’re sprawled out on the floor before either of them realize it, hands zeroing in on less innocent places.

“Market,” Yunho finally relents. He helps Jaejoong to his feet, fingers resting on his waist.

“See you later,” Jaejoong says, and once he’s in the hallways, pauses in front of a mirror to straighten his hair. It’s a mess, as he had expected. Yunho likes to pull it when their kissing gets hot and heavy.

It takes him only a moment to find Jinki, the person they’d been training in place of Changmin since he’d gone to the palace to be closer to his son. At the time, Jinki had been working for a prominent merchant in the market and had been (and still is,) one of the most pleasant people Jaejoong has ever met. So when Yunho had started to make a list of some candidates for the job, Jaejoong had been quick to scurry down to the market place and ask Jinki if he might want to be paid five times the amount of money he currently was to serve Yunho and Jaejoong. Jinki still has a lot to learn, but Jaejoong is sure that once he gets used to everything, he’ll be a perfect fit.

Jinki smiles when he sees Jaejoong. “How did it go, Faerlamore?”

“As I had expected,” Jaejoong sniffs, “if anyone asks after me, I’m going to be down at the market. Yunho has a meeting in an hour, so you’re in charge until one of us is free.”

Jinki bows, but doesn’t move to make way.

“Is there something you needed?”

The servants eyebrows knit together a moment, as if he’s weighing pros and cons for the millionth time, before he speaks. “If—if I may speak freely…”

“You may always speak your mind to me.”

“There’s a merchant. A noble in the market that—well, I owe him a favor. He has a sister, and I know it’s late in the process, but I said I’d bring her to your attention in terms of—Yunho.”

Jaejoong blinks. “My attention? Not Master’s?”

“Everyone knows my Lord will not pick a wife unless you approve of her.”

“Is that so?”

Jinki swallows, tongue wetting his lips. “Yes. She’s—beautiful. And smart. I’m not expecting anything, and I didn’t even tell them I’m asking you this but if—if you could. They’re parents just died and it would really—I think just being included would really lift their spirits.”

Jaejoong could, technically. It’s not too late, in fact there had been one lady they’d added just yesterday as per Junsu’s instruction (though it had taken them only five minutes to figure out he’d recommended her as a joke.) “This merchant friend of yours—how old is he?”

“A little younger than I am. But his sister is older. More than ready to marry. Please. I will not ask anything else of you, just this one thing.”

“That’s not how this works, Jinki.” He’s still half-bowed, fists clenched at his side as he waits. Jaejoong raises his chin with a finger, “If meeting with the girl will help you that that’s what I’ll do. You don’t have to be afraid of asking me for things. That’s what I’m here to do. You help Yunho and I, and we help you. Write down her name and where I can find them. Quickly, now, I should already be down there.”

He doesn’t miss the tears Jinki tries to blink away as he scrambles into another room for parchment. “Thank you.”

“If she turns out to be good, you’ll have done us a big favor. At this point, I’d take anyone else besides the people we currently have.”

“Thank you so much.”

“Enough. Go and see to your work. I’ll let you know how it goes later.”

Jinki continues to bow to him until Jaejoong is out of sight. As an afterthought, Jaejoong jots down a note for Yunho and gives it to a page before he leaves the grounds. If his master has time he can ask Jinki about her and arrange some quarters for her. At the very least, it’s best Yunho isn’t surprised when Jaejoong comes back to the castle with a new girl in tow.

The market is busy as always. The merchants that see him incline their heads in greeting, all of them in the middle of sales. There are a few children from the orphanage that recognize him and he buys them a few pieces of taffy, accepting their choruses of thank you with pats to the head and admonishments to be good.

He runs his errands first, buying what food he needs for the special dinner that night, making sure to speak with a few of the merchants about the goods he’d received earlier (some had not been up to his usual standards,) and it’s only an hour later that he makes his way to the block of streets written down on the paper from Jinki.

It’s in a wealthy part of the village, and Jaejoong recognizes the merchant crest above the door. They’re a smaller merchant group, and deal only in wholesale to other merchants, so Jaejoong knows he’s never dealt with them directly. One knock later and a servant opens the door. He’s tall, skinny, and handsome, and Jaejoong gives him a bright smile, waiting until recognition flashes across the servant’s face and he bows. Jaejoong’s hair is always cut short in the same recognizable style, and a new tattoo is creeping a bit up his neck so he is never confused for someone else. 

“Faerlamore,” the servant smiles, “Jinki just sent a message saying you might be over.” The smile slips a little, as if he realizes how he had addressed the servant and he amends, “Uh-L-Lord Lee.”

Jaejoong blinks. “He is not a Lord. But no matter. I’m looking to speak with Choi Minho. Is he at home?”

“He is at the market and will be until dinner.”

“I see. Is his sister here?”

“She is at the market as well.”

“Would you happen to know where I might find them down there? I have some urgent matters to discuss.”

The servant cocks his head. “Are they in trouble?”

Apparently, Jinki had not informed them as to the reason behind Jaejoong’s visit. “No trouble at all,” Jaejoong assures the servant, and wonders if the answer would differ if he had said yes.

The servant beckons him inside. “I’ll write directions down for you. They’re usually just at their shop by the docks, so you should find them with ease. They have a ship coming in today, so I doubt they’ll be wandering.”

While he waits for the servant to return, Jaejoong tries to take mental stock of the grounds. They’re not particularly expansive, but it reeks of wealth, as though they had decided it was unnecessary to show their quantity of money by the quantity of possessions. Jaejoong respects that. 

“Here you are,” the servant bows as he hands over the piece of paper with directions. They are simple enough to follow and Jaejoong’s been to the market enough to get a rough picture of where he needs to head.

“Thank you,” Jaejoong says, and makes a mental note to have Yunho send the household a gift. Even though he is Faerlamore, he’s still a slave, and as such does not carry lots of money with him. Anything he purchases is done so with Yunho’s seal and written down in a small book to be handed over to Yunho’s accountants later. They are the ones that come down to pay and arrange for things to be hauled to Yunho’s manor. He does keep a few coins on hand, mostly to hand out to those begging, or to buy sweets from the orphanage selling on the street, but not enough to purchase anything of considerable cost.

He inclines his head to acknowledge the servant’s bow and hurries down to the waterside. Jaejoong needs to get back to the castle in order to oversee his kitchen and be sure the prospective wives do not ruin it.

The coastline is packed with merchant warehouses, each competing for space to dock their boats and store goods, both to buy and sell. Choi Minho’s warehouse is approximately a ten minute walk down the coastline and Jaejoong finds it with ease. 

He flags a worker down and beckons him, smiling as the man bows. “Faerlamore. Did you come for a shipment? I thought—“

“Not today,” Jaejoong assures him, “Is Choi Minho here? I have business to discuss.”

“I’ll find him.”

“His sister too, if you don’t mind.”

The man jogs off, disappearing between stacks of goods and it’s not long before Choi Minho and his sister materialize in front of him, both of them looking relatively surprised to see the Faerlamore standing in their small merchant warehouse.

“Do you have a moment? I have something I’d like to discuss with you both.”

The brother and sister pair exchange curious glances, but neither of them seem nervous or agitated. It’s a good sign that they aren’t hiding anything or worried that Jaejoong had perhaps discovered some illicit activity. 

Minho empties one of the small back rooms of two accountants tallying numbers and they let Jaejoong sit in the largest chair, taking up the small couch opposite it, their backs straight.

“Is something the matter?” Minho begins. He seems exceedingly cautious.

“Not in the least. I have a proposition for the both of you,” he turns to the sister, “though mostly for you. Our new butler recommended I ask you, actually. You have no obligation to say yes at all. I’m not here to extort or blackmail you, and regardless of your answer, your business shall continue as normal, I will personally see to that myself.”

“I don’t understand,” Minho interrupts, “Jinki recommended me? For what?”

They’re on a first name basis, then. Jaejoong observes the brother for a moment, wondering if perhaps he is (or was at one point) more than friends with Lee Jinki. But he decided it doesn’t matter. He can just ask Jinki when he gets back up to the estate, and that’s really not why he’s down here anyway. “Not you,” Jaejoong presses forward, “Your sister.”

“Me?” Boa asks.

“Are you seeing anyone?”

She bushes. “N-no.”

“Now is not a good time to lie to me.”

“I’m not! Merchant Park, the other one who deals in silks. He sent me flowers but I’m not—I’m not interested.”

“And why is that?”

Jaejoong doesn’t exactly have a plan here, but he figures the more he knows about Boa the better. 

“Sorry,” Minho cuts in, and Jaejoong’s pleased to see he has a little frown on his face as he reaches out to take his sister’s hand. Protective is good. “Sorry, but what exactly does this have to do anything?”

“I’m sure you’re aware, but Yunho’s trying to find a wife.”

They both stare at him, clearly not understanding.

“Jinki asked me to come down to see if you would be willing to be a candidate.”

Minho’s mouth drops. “A candidate to marry Lord Jung? Are you pulling my leg?”

“I wouldn’t joke about something so serious, Merchant Choi. I trust Jinki and if he thinks that you will be a good fit for my master then I can’t ignore that.”

“You want her to parade herself up in front of all of those ladies and merchants who are—“

Boa pinches her brother’s knee, “I can speak for myself, Minho.”

“This is not a _parade_ ,” Jaejoong cuts in, voice harsh, “this is a serious commitment. There are stipulations and rules. There are a lot of things you’ll have to do and a lot of things you’ll have to overlook.”

“Like the fact that he won’t actually be in love with my sister because he has you?”

Jaejoong tries very hard not to be upset. “Yes,” he says, “that among other things. But in return you have the title you have power and prestige and once you bear my Master an heir you are free to love whomever you might wish.” He gives Boa a hard look, “You are capable of having children, yes?”

She blushes again, but she holds her head up when she looks him square in the eye. “Yes.”

“I understand that this is a big decision, but if you want to do it you have to be at the estate by dinner.”

“ _What_?”

“Jinki gave me the impression that you would leap at this chance. Any girl would leap at this chance, are you going to throw it away?”

He gives her a moment to think, watches carefully as she chews her lip. 

“If you come tonight it doesn’t mean you lose any rights. You can back out if you decide you can’t marry him or that you wouldn’t want to live like that. It’s perfectly alright. But honestly, none of the girls we currently have, at least in my opinion, suit him. I don’t know you very well, Boa, but from what I can see I think you and him could at least be very good friends, and that’s all he wants. If you come tonight, you’ll have my blessing.” Unlike the rest of the girls, which means that if Boa really wants Yunho, she can have him. Because like Jinki had said, Yunho isn’t going to pick someone if Jaejoong doesn’t approve. And by the look on Boa’s face she’s well aware of that.

“Jinki sent you,” she says, as if she can’t quite believe it, throwing a look at her brother. Minho’s jaw twitches and Jaejoong wonders again what sort of story there is between them. He’s going to have to get it out of Jinki soon.

“Is that a deterrent?”

“No,” Boa shakes her head, “not if you’re actually serious, I suppose.”

“I am,” Jaejoong says, “I need to head back, though, before Yunho sends out guards looking for me. I’ll send a coach for you in four hours, to your home. If you want to come fine, if not, send it back empty. It’s your decision, please think it over carefully.”

She nods. Minho has apparently been stunned into silence.

“I hope to see you later,” Jaejoong tells her as he stands, and pats her shoulder, “have a good day.”

On his way back up to the house, the sun feels a bit brighter, the air smells a bit sweeter, and Jaejoong’s grinning when he pushes through the front gates. 

Almost immediately, he’s confronted with a fuming Yunho. Jaejoong can well imagine figurative smoke pouring out of Yunho’s ears as he seethes, jaw clenched and eyebrows knitting together. It’s incredibly hot. “What is this?” he hisses, waving the note Jaejoong had written to him a few hours earlier.

“It’s exactly as I said,” Jaejoong smiles, dodging Yunho’s arm and continuing on into the house. An accountant meets him with a bow, taking his list of purchases. “I’ll be back within the hour, Faerlamore.”

“Thank you,” Jaejoong smiles.

“Kim Jaejoong, I am talking to you,” Yunho says, once the accountant is out of hearing range, “answer my question.”

“I did. I offered a spot up to a girl Jinki suggested.”

“Do not try to blame him.”

“I’m not, Master,” Jaejoong replies, as one of the girls staying in the house walks by, bowing to both of them, before heading out towards the gardens. She doesn’t look happy but Jaejoong has more pressing matters than upset guests. He rings for Jinki once they’re in Yunho’s ground floor office. “I take full responsibility. You and I both know none of these girls are right for you.”

“Do we?”

Jaejoong raises an eyebrow and feels a little satisfaction when Yunho’s jaw twitches just a bit. “Yunho,” he admonishes, and cups his master’s cheek gently. 

The eyebrows relax and Yunho sighs. “I don’t want _another_ mediocre option, Jaejoong.”

Neither does Jaejoong. “I know. I only talked to her for ten minutes but—that was enough. She’s different. This one is different, Yunho.”

“Good enough for me?”

“I’m the only one good enough for you. But she isn’t half bad. You could be friends, at least.”

“You think?”

“Yes,” Jaejoong nods, “I do.”

Another sigh, and Jaejoong knows the anger’s been washed away. “I’m still not happy.”

“You can punish me accordingly tonight.”

“I already will be for your ridiculous display this morning,” Yunho growls, and Jaejoong’s stomach flutters. It’s probably not the correct reaction to have to such an announcement, but he can’t really help it.

He’s saved from responding by a knock on the door and Jinki shuffles inside looking slightly apprehensive.

“Oh, good,” Jaejoong smiles, “I went to speak with your friend.”

The tiny wince at the word ‘friend’ does not go unnoticed _and that settles it,_ Jaejoong thinks, _there’s something between Jinki and Choi Minho and I will discover what it is…once I have time_. “I liked her a lot.”

“You-you did?” The apprehensions gives way to hope.

“Yes. I told her to think about it and that I would send a carriage in time for her to be here for dinner. She may or may not accept, but let’s plan like she will. Better to be prepared, yes?”

“Yes,” Jinki breathes, like he still can’t quite believe it, “thank you. Thank you both so much. I won’t forget this.”

“If it works out, neither will we. Better get going, you have lots to do.”

Jinki bows himself out the door looking absolutely ecstatic. 

“Why on earth is he so pleased?”

“I don’t know,” Jaejoong shrugs, “but when I have time I’ll find out.”

“You have time right now.”

“No, I have to go make sure our lady guests don’t burn down my kitchen. If you’ll excuse me, Master.”

“Kim Jaejoong!”

He’s already in for it, so Jaejoong ignores Yunho’s look of outrage in favor of pushing up onto his toes to kiss his master’s cheek. 

“You are in so much trouble, Faerlamore dearest.”

“Whatever you say, Master.” 

Jaejoong scoots out the door before Yunho can think of a proper retort. He is _really_ looking forward to later on tonight.

 

— 

 

The kitchen is a disaster area. It takes all of Jaejoong’s self control to not start ordering the staff to begin cleaning. Pots and pans are everywhere, some half full of discarded batter or unwanted fat cut off from meat. There is no way in hell Jaejoong is letting any of these women do anything in here should Yunho pick them to be his bride. Not in a million, trillion years.

He steps further inside, waiting to be noticed, and he doesn’t have long to wait; the lady with the blue fan gives him haughty once over. “This is not your kitchen while I’m in it,” she informs him, “get out.”

“Actually it is my kitchen,” Jaejoong says, “and it will always be my kitchen. I’m quite happy where I am, thank you.”

“When Yunho chooses me,” she hisses at him, ladle raised, “you will be the first thing to go. I’m not going to wait around for him to tire of you. And he will. You mark my words, slave, he’s going to get sick of your face.”

“He’ll be so pleased to hear that,” Jaejoong smiles, “he’s been wanting to throw me out for years but hasn’t been able to do so. Your pot is boiling over.”

The girl working nearest to him, who is far too young for marriage, is trying very hard not to laugh as she kneads her dough and Jaejoong shares a secretive smile with her. If she had been just a few years older, he probably would have chosen her. 

“What are you making?”

“Sweet bread!” The girl says, grinning. “It’s the only thing I can ma—I mean. My favorite thing to make.“ She’s so adorable, and when her smile cracks a bit, Jaejoong feels his heart lurch. 

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing! Nothing is wrong. I’m—I’m just really happy to have this opportunity.”

The smile is gone now, and Jaejoong reaches out to still her hands. “Are you? You look sad, and you’re far too pretty and far too young to be sad about anything.”

She cracks half a smile. “I know I’m pretty, thanks.”

Jaejoong is not at all convinced. “Well, confidence is good. Your sweet bread looks like it will be delicious. Want to know a secret?”

She cocks her head as Jaejoong bends down to whisper into her ear, “Yunho loves cinnamon. If you sprinkle some over the top he’ll like your bread even more.”

 

\- 

 

Jaejoong is in the midst of directing his kitchen maids to and from the dining hall when Jinki slides up next to him, grinning ear to ear. “She came,” he says.

She came. Jaejoong lets out a breath. “Show her to her room and have her change into something suitable for this evening. When she’s ready come and fetch me and we’ll introduce her to Yunho.”

Jinki bows his way out.

“Faerlamore?” One of the maids is still struggling under the weight of a pot of stew.

“Sorry, love. That can go back to the kitchen for now. Bring it out after the third round of dishes.”

She’s here. Jaejoong is suddenly quite nervous.

For the next half hour, Jaejoong loses himself in preparation, making sure everyone knows their tasks before hurrying up to his chambers to get ready. He’s about to dress in something half hearted when he catches sight of the red garment he’d first worn when he’d arrived here, so many years ago. He hasn’t worn it since then, having decided to save it for a special occasion after learning how much Yunho liked it. After a moment’s deliberation he pulls it out, slipping it on easily along with some of the gold jewelry Yunho had recently given to him. 

_I am invincible_ , Jaejoong thinks, as he stares at himself in the mirror. His half-hearted smile is not so convincing.

Jinki comes back after Jaejoong has applied the last of his make up, and his ego flares a little when he opens the door and the butler’s jaw drops. “You look…stunning,” he says, before stepping aside to usher in Choi Minho’s sister.

She’s gorgeous. Any invincibility Jaejoong felt vanishes in the blink of an eye and in a panic thinks _I am a slave, I am nothing, he is not going to be able to take his eyes off her, what have I done? WHAT HAVE I DONE?_ Somehow, he manages a smile. “I’m glad you chose to come.”

“I’d have to be really dumb to not.”

With her checks flushed and teeth digging nervously into her lip, Jaejoong leads them to Yunho’s quarters. “Stay while I make sure he’s decent,” Jaejoong directs them both. It’s silly, because Yunho is most definitely dressed by now, but he doesn’t want Yunho to size them both up. Jaejoong wants Yunho to see _Jaejoong_. Then he can feast his eyes on the girl.

He glows a little when he sees Yunho swallow and lick his lips, bending his head to kiss Jaejoong’s mouth in greeting. “You’re so beautiful. You can’t—you can’t come in here looking like that, how am I supposed to remain mad at you?”

“Just what I wanted to hear.”

“So egotistical.”

“If that’s what you want,” Jaejoong smiles, “then that’s what I’ll be.”

“I know you’ll be anything for me,” Yunho whispers, cradling the back of Jaejoong’s neck and pulling him in again, “even if you don’t want it. Thank you.”

“The new girl is outside. Want to meet her?”

Yunho brushes his lips across Jaejoong’s cheek in agreement. 

With their fingers laced together, Jaejoong feels a wave of confidence as he opens the door and makes room for Jinki to come inside, the girl following behind him a bit cautiously. 

“Yunho, this is Boa. Boa, Lord Jung.”

His choice of names is deliberate. He has yet to call Yunho anything but Master in front of Jinki or even in front of any of his prospective brides, mostly because he doesn’t view them as a threat. But in this he has demonstrated that he is indeed close enough to Yunho to call him by his first name and that Boa is not. She is here by Jaejoong’s grace and that alone.

“My Lord,” she curtsies, not a wobble in sight, and Jaejoong wonders if she’s wearing heels under her dress. He doesn’t want to stare to find out. Yunho would probably pinch him until he left a bruise—not that Jaejoong would mind.

“Choi Boa?”

“Technically, yes. But I also go by my late mother’s name Kwon.”

“Ah, yes. I remember that paperwork.”

Jaejoong doesn’t, and he assumes it happened while he had been employed elsewhere.

“We do a lot of business with you, I’m surprised you’re coming to see me this late.”

Jaejoong could have crowed. His master is skeptical. This is very good.

“I—I really wasn’t giving marriage much thought. We’re still trying to settle everything from our parents accounts and falling in—finding a husband wasn’t really high on my list of things to accomplish.”

“Ah yes, your parents. I am sorry about that. I can imagine you’ve had a lot on your mind, lately.”

And oh. Jaejoong’s good mood fizzles out almost immediately because he’d forgotten momentarily. If there’s one type of person Yunho has a soft spot for it’s those without family. 

“I’m trying to keep everything as fair as I can. The ladies are presenting dishes tonight, and obviously you don’t have enough time to do that. So perhaps you can make something for me to taste for breakfast in the morning?”

“That sounds fair to me, my Lord.”

Yunho throws a disdainful look at Jaejoong a moment, and then grins. “Please, it’s just the few of us here. Call me Yunho.”

In that moment, Jaejoong suddenly regrets every single decision he has made all day long.

 

— 

 

The start of the evening is not a complete disaster. The most pressing problem is that there is not enough food for all the staff and servants that traditionally partake in the meal. So to be safe, Jaejoong’s back-up dinner is set out so they at least have something to eat.

Yunho tastes each dish, giving praise where it’s due. After he really enjoys one, he gives some of it to Jaejoong. When Yunho tastes the young girl’s sweet bread (whose name Jaejoong discovers is Jinri,) and wonders aloud how she knew he liked cinnamon, Jaejoong can barely contain his smirk. Yunho seems to notice because his mouth twitches and he feeds Jaejoong a piece, his thumb brushing against Jaejoong’s lip in thanks.

Blue Fan Lady (whose name Jaejoong refuses to learn,) had made a soup, and while Yunho clearly likes it, he doesn’t give any of it to Jaejoong. A sign, Jaejoong thinks, that his master is well aware of her unacceptable behavior and will not be picking her as his wife.

Boa, Jaejoong knows, is sitting at the end of the table, and he can almost imagine her watching everything shrewdly, making mental notes on the things Yunho says he likes and the things he doesn’t. He’s never harsh, though, a picture perfect gentleman to each and every girl. 

At the end of the meal, Yunho stands, thanking them all again for the food. He talks for a minute about believing in giving everyone a fair chance, even if they come into the game late, and that is the lead in for introducing Boa to the other ladies present. Jaejoong’s still sitting, waiting patiently for Yunho to tell him he is allowed to stand, so he can’t see their faces, but he can hear quiet murmuring and a few small titters of laughter. It’s not a pleasant reaction per say, but as he follows Yunho out of the room, the Faerlamore looks back over his shoulder to see Jinri and another one of the girls walking up to Boa to introduce themselves. 

_She’ll be alright_ , Jaejoong finds himself thinking, before immediately chastising himself. He should not be on their side. Not anymore. His time with Yunho is suddenly all too precious.

“Don’t you have some work in accounting to finish up?” Yunho asks brusquely.

“What? I—yes. It can wait until—“

“Go finish it. I’ll see you later tonight.”

“But—“ Jaejoong starts. Yunho’s already gone, heading towards his study and leaving Jaejoong stunned in the hallway with not even a kiss goodbye. “Well,” he huffs, “fine. I guess we’re saving everything for tonight. Fine.”

He breezes through the accounting work, double checking it just to make sure before scurrying to Yunho’s bedchambers as fast as he can without actually running. No one stops him, just bowing and moving out of his way. 

When he arrives, there’s no light coming from under the door and Jaejoong breathes a sigh of relief. Yunho isn’t back yet and that gives Jaejoong some time to prepare, thank the gods.

The door creaks a little as Jaejoong swings it open. He lights a candle, heading to bed in order to turn down the covers, but he stop short when he findS Yunho already in it, fast asleep. Jaejoong nearly shrieks in surprise. When had Yunho come here? Oh, Jaejoong was in for it, and probably part of it not in a nice way. “Master?”

“I’m sleeping.”

Oh, crap.

“Yunho—“

“Sleeping, Jaejoong. I’m tired and I want to sleep. Get changed and get in the bed. Good night.”

Yunho doesn’t even bother opening his eyes, rolling over onto his side, face hair buried in a pillow.

_I am so dead_ , Jaejoong thinks, _he must have a paddle or a cane he’s hiding under there._ Well. Better to be done with it so they can move onto kissing. Yunho may love him, at least somewhat, and he may love Yunho, wholeheartedly, but it doesn’t mean his master lets all the rules slide.

Jaejoong changes as fast as he can and as quietly as he can, in case Yunho finds it another sin to fault him for committing, and blows out the candle before sliding easily underneath the covers.

Yunho doesn’t stir.

“Yunho?”

“ _What?_ ”

Jaejoong swallows. “Are you mad?”

“Mad that you’re pestering me, yes. Go to sleep, Faerlamore.”

The title stings a bit more than Jaejoong expects, but it’s nothing compared to the fact that he’s clearly being ignored. No kiss good night, no blow job good night. No _cuddling_. Jaejoong loves cuddling. 

He pouts, upset that Yunho is being indifferent and sinks underneath the blanket. He is clearly not allowed to say anything further, so he scoots as close to Yunho as he dares, keeping his arms to himself, but does press his nose in between his master’s shoulder blades. “I love you.”

Yunho doesn’t respond but he doesn’t push Jaejoong away, either, so he stays.

It’s hours before his mind is calm enough to sleep.

 

— 

 

Yunho is gone in the morning, despite Jaejoong waking early, and once he’s dressed and has found Jinki, discovers that Yunho had bid farewell to at least half the women staying with them. A lot had cried, some had screamed, even pleaded, but Yunho had not swayed.

The staff made most of the breakfast save for Boa, who set before Yunho a dish of rice and egg and spices. Yunho feeds Jaejoong a little of it after he praises Boa’s talent with such simple ingredients and Jaejoong finds himself agreeing. He really knows how to pick them.

In between breakfast and one of the final negotiations for a bride, Yunho corners Jaejoong in a hallway and kisses his cheek. “We’ll talk tonight,” he says, while Jaejoong’s mind screams _ABOUT WHAT?_

“Fine,” he says, and swallows down his own anger as he pushes forward to press their mouths together, gentle. 

Yunho does not kiss him back.

 

— 

 

Mid morning, Yunho brings out the marriage contract.

Jaejoong is far too worried about his own status to be smug.

“Are you serious? No one will sign this! The wife is the head of the household, I will not stand for my status being overlooked for a _slave_.” 

“It’s not your status yet, mind your words.” Yunho’s tone does nothing to change Blue Fan Lady’s attitude, chin jutted and arms crossed. If Jaejoong hadn’t still been feeling so sad and lost he would have preened. It is nice to know his master hasn’t changed anything in the marriage contract since he’d last shown it to Jaejoong, and he feels reassured, despite the fact that Yunho has mostly been ignoring him since yesterday. “Jaejoong _is_ the household. He’s made it what it is today and I don’t want or need anyone else overseeing his work. If that’s what you’re here to do, then you can leave. Immediately. Jaejoong is mine, Jaejoong is staying, and there is nothing that’s going to change that decision. He is a Faerlamore. He is a part of me, an extension of my body, and that will not be disregarded.”

“I highly doubt that. I bet I can change your mind. He’s a _slave_!”

“I won’t be giving you the opportunity to do so,” Yunho says, and beckons with a hand, “Jinki, escort her to her rooms so she can pack her bags. She’s made her position clear.”

“You can’t—“

“I can. This is my decision. This is not an arranged union by any party. You’ve only been ornery since you’ve arrived, and I won’t have that attitude in my estate. Leave.”

She’s gaping as Jinki walks over to her and takes a gentle hold of her elbow. “This way,” he directs, his usual cheeriness forced. It makes Jaejoong immeasurably happy to see that he is not the only person that did not like Blue Fan Lady, though he refuses to show it. Yunho still isn’t touching him, despite his words of praise.

“I’ll give you some time to think it over. I understand that not everyone likes this, and that’s fine with me. I only ask you be respectful about it. The person I am today and the estate this household has become is because of Jaejoong; he isn’t going anywhere.”

_I’m not_ , Jaejoong thinks, and he believes that with every fiber of his being. The problem is, Yunho just might get bored of him. It’s not the title he cares about, nor is it the work. It’s Yunho. Just Yunho, his master, and Jaejoong would give up every privilege he’s ever earned in order for that to never change. 

“If you’re staying for lunch please let my Faerlamore know.”

Yunho stands, still keeping his hands to himself as he leaves a copy of his marriage contract out for the ladies to consider. Jaejoong stays seated on the floor, still a little stunned Yunho hadn’t even looked at him save to tell him to turn around and face the people milling around the room.

The sweet bread girl is the first to approach him. “Can I—we talk?”

Jaejoong has to take a deep breath, afraid of tears spilling over. “Yes, come with me. I have some things to oversee.” He doesn’t, but he’s sure he can think of something to do before long. He’s afraid of what he might do should he stand still for too long.

He has an inkling about her path of words and he’s proven right when Jinri reveals in hushed tones that her family had forced her into this and while she really does think Yunho’s a great man, she isn’t in love with him. She doesn’t want to be, she has someone else she likes.

“Who?” Jaejoong asks, expecting it to be a noble.

“One of my servants,” she admits. “I know I’ll never—I understand what that means. I don’t expect anything but it isn’t fair to anyone if I just—marry.”

“Jinri.”

“I’m sorry. My family’s going to be upset, but I know they aren’t going to like the contract anyway, so it’s a good excuse. Besides, I can tell he thinks I’m too young. You both do.”

They pause in the middle of the hall and Jaejoong pets her hair. “That’s true. You are very young. But you’re nice, and by law old enough to be a court lady.”

She gives him a watery smile, and Jaejoong heart leaps because _emotion_. Emotion! He can deal with emotion! 

“It was very brave of you to come here all by yourself,” he tells her, cupping her cheek and thumbing away the tears that are finally falling. 

“It’s not brave. It was easy, leaving my family.”

“Do you not like them?”

“I love them.”

“But sometimes it’s just all too much?”

She nods.

“I want to help you, I really do. How can I help you, Jinri? Do you want to move into the King’s court? I can find you a position. You have to take servants with you, I’m sure we could arrange a spot for a certain male servant of yours.”

“My family would never—“

“They will if the King requests it. I’ll even let you stay here until all the details are ironed out, how does that sound?”

She sniffs. “You can do that?”

“Absolutely.”

She wipes at her cheeks and Jaejoong puts an arm around her waist. “Helping people is what I do. I can even teach you to cook something other than sweet bread.”

“I’d like that.”

“Let’s go find Jinki. I’ll write Junsu a letter and we can all figure out the little details together.”

It isn’t that he’s feeling particularly generous, but he likes problem solving. He likes making people feel better, especially when it feels as though his own life is crumbling down around him. Technically, he should check with Yunho. But Yunho isn’t talking to him so even if he were to try, Jaejoong wouldn’t get anything accomplished. He’s pissed off his master anyway, and he’s pretty sure Yunho can’t get any angrier.

 

— 

 

The rest of the day passes uneventfully, save for quite a few of the ladies packing their belongings and leaving. There are approximately five or six left, one of them being Boa, another Jinri. Though Yunho knows Jinri is not staying. It had taken Junsu only hours to write back, assuring Jaejoong he’d take the girl under his wing, but unfortunately, Yunho receives the letter before Jaejoong.

He’s still not talking. Gentle kisses here and there, but only in front of people, to keep up a charade. No cuddling, no talking, not even a spanking: it’s a real punishment, Jaejoong finally concludes. Not for something as a Faerlamore, not for something a good paddling can fix. No. Yunho is genuinely upset with him and wants his space, wants to pretend for awhile that Jaejoong doesn’t exist. Yunho wants to punish Jaejoong for being in the wrong. Perhaps because of Boa, perhaps because of his behavior, his attitude, perhaps for something Jaejoong isn’t aware he’s even done.

It doesn’t get any better when he reads Junsu’s letter, glaring balefully at Jaejoong over the parchment and sending him scurrying out of the room with a smack to his bottom that is anything but sexy.

“I don’t want to cause trouble.”

“Don’t worry,” Jaejoong soothes Jinri, “he agrees with me. He’s just—out of sorts.”

They’re all out of sorts.

Another day passes and there are only four girls left. Yunho starts spending time with them, riding out into the forest, walking down into the market, while Jaejoong prepares for a wedding. He cooks and teaches Jinri and cooks some more. He fires three kitchen staff and hires five to replace them. His temper is on edge, and he needs to cool down, relax. 

He needs Yunho. A halfway decent kiss. Sex. And Jaejoong knows Yunho needs it too. It’s the longest they’ve ever argued, and Jaejoong doesn’t even really know what he’s done wrong (besides fervently wish he’d been born a girl. Just so he could have Yunho, just so he wouldn’t have to marry anyone else.)

_You mark my words, slave, he’s going to get sick of your face._

Sometimes, at a meal, his fingers linger on Jaejoong’s lips. Sometimes, at night, when Yunho thinks he’s sleeping, Jaejoong can feel him turn around and mold himself to Jaejoong body, just for a minute. Sometimes, when they pass each other in the hall and Yunho smiles at him, Jaejoong thinks his master isn’t going to continue, will maybe press him against a wall and grab his cock.

He never does.

The next day, there’s one lady left standing; Jaejoong can’t tell if he should be proud or not, that it’s Boa.

Yunho finally pulls him into his chambers to talk that night, a mess of emotions and so unlike the stoic Lord that Jaejoong has come to know, the Faerlamore is suddenly frightened. 

“I need you,” Yunho tells him.

“I know that.”

“Then why are you fighting me?”

“You’re the one not touching me unless you think I’m asleep!”

Yunho’s face falls, more light seeping out of his eyes, frame shrinking and suddenly, Jaejoong’s the tallest one, Yunho so defeated he can barely stand. “I don’t want this. I don’t want any of this, it’s horrible.”

“It is,” Jaejoong agrees.

“I can’t—I _can’t_.”

Jaejoong catches Yunho as he tips forward, swallowing back his own tears as his master slowly breaks down, sobbing hard enough for the whole estate to hear, even with his face buried in Jaejoong’s shoulder.

They don’t talk. They should. They should speak their minds and let their words flow out of them but before Jaejoong can even try, Yunho’s mouth is on his. “Kiss me,” Yunho demands, and Jaejoong can’t say no. Not when they’ve needed this and craved it. There’s no feelings involved though, and neither of them say I love you as Yunho slips his fingers into Jaejoong’s body, and he doesn’t apologize as he thrusts and Jaejoong’s skin drags against the rug. It’s raw, so raw and needy but they’re silent, silent as Yunho pants onto Jaejoong’s neck, silent as Jaejoong bites through his lip, blood dripping steadily onto the floor.

It’s a little like a goodbye and quite a lot like broken hearts.

“Can you do something for me?”

Yunho’s still on top of him, sweat cooling and certain parts of their bodies starting to stick uncomfortably. Jaejoong’s face burns from the carpet, his dick feeling incredibly raw and he wants to cry. It isn’t as though Yunho had hurt him, hadn’t thought of him, hadn’t touched him or even that he had used him. It just hadn’t felt like _Jaejoong’s_ Yunho.

“Anything, pretty Faerlamore.”

“Send me away.”

Yunho rolls off of him, hands rough as they cup his cheeks and pull them both into a sitting position. Jaejoong feels cum leaking down his leg; it isn’t as warm as he remembers.

“What?”

“After the marriage. When you—for that night. Let me stay with Junsu. Please.”

“What if I say no?”

“Why would you?” Jaejoong counters. He wants a bath, wants to scrub his skin of this encounter. Yunho brushes his thumb across Jaejoong’s lip, wiping away the blood.

“I don’t want to be here when—after the wedding.” _When you take her here. When you pull her onto the bed. When you kiss her and touch her and—_

The hands fall away, smoothing over Jaejoong’s shoulders and grabbing onto his waist. He allows Yunho to pull him close, guide his head to Yunho’s shoulder and hide his face in a neck. He doesn’t even smell the same. Like the perfume of too many women and someone else’s cooking. Yunho rocks him.

“I can do that,” he promises.

Jaejoong does not cry.

 

— 

 

The newly crowned King arrives at the ceremony with his Faerlamore and his wife and his wife’s Faerlamore. Behind them, Jaejoong can see Changmin towering over most every one else, Hyunwoo in his arms and behaving perfectly. The King’s son, and now Crown Prince, dislodges himself from Junsu’s arms as soon as he sees Jaejoong and runs to him.

“Jaejoong,” he shrieks happily, as Jaejoong bends down and tries to balance himself against Seungho’s attack on his legs. The prince smells the same, no strange perfume or weird spices. Like the King and the Queen and their Faerlamores and maybe a little bit like Changmin. He’s familiar and Jaejoong desperately needs familiar right now.

“Hello, my Prince.”

“HI!”

“Seungho!” Junsu says, “we talked about how this is official business.”

Seungho looks perfectly terrified for a moment, as if he’d just remembered something terribly important, before his face smooths over and he says in a voice clearly meant to mimic his father, and not in a polite way, “Hi, Jaejoong. I’m here _officially_ so I’m not _allowed_ to hug you.” 

“Park Seungho.”

Jaejoong bows as the King walks up to him, just as Seungho immediately releases his hold on Jaejoong’s legs. Jaejoong likes the King a lot, and in the past few years has gotten extremely close to him, however, as Seungho had said, this is official and not the time for informal greetings. “My King. You look well.”

“Thank you, Jaejoong. Seungho, that is your first warning. Do not make me give you another one.”

Well. _Something’s in the air_ , Jaejoong decides. No one is happy.

“He had to execute some people this morning,” Junsu offers as a way of explanation. The King is not out of ear shot, but he continues as if he hadn’t heard, though his eyebrows come together, as if remembering.

Death puts anyone in a bad mood unless they happened to be a tyrant, but their King is not. So Jaejoong supposes the King’s attitude is understandable. 

“It’s bad to kill people,” Seungho says, “but sometimes necessary.” 

“That’s right,” Jaejoong agrees, and folds Seungho’s hand in front of him as a Crown Prince is required. “I’ll tell you what, my Prince. I’m in trouble too, so we can both stand off to the side and try to be very good together, alright?” 

Seungho seems to like this idea a lot and Jaejoong looks up in time to see the King glance back at him with a faint smile of thanks before his gaze is drawn elsewhere. 

“Oh dear,” Junsu says, “you’re in trouble?” 

He’s teasing, a grin playing on his lips but it soon dies when he sees that Jaejoong isn’t smiling back at him. “Jaejoong?”

“Did you get a spanking?” Seungho asks, looking entirely resigned to his fate.

Jaejoong wishes he’d gotten a spanking. A spanking is something he understands far better than being ignored. A spanking means forgiveness and moving and generally just _sex_. Jaejoong rather likes that, but no. Not this time.

“Yes, do tell,” Junsu croons, wiggling his eyebrows.

“I didn’t, Seungho.”

Seungho looks incredibly relieved _”spankings are sad, but sometimes necessary,”_ but Junsu does not. His eyebrows furrow much in the same way the King’s had a few minutes before. “Is something wrong?”

“No. Yes. I don’t know.”

“What? Are you—Jaejoong-ah!’ Junsu’s hand wiggles it’s way into the crook of Jaejoong’s elbow. “What is it? Is it about the lady you wrote to me of?”

Where does he begin? How does he explain? What words are there for heartbreak? For the complete and utter collapse of everything he has come to love in a matter of days?

_You mark my words, slave, he’s going to get sick of your face._

Jaejoong doesn’t realize he’s teared up until Junsu brushes at his cheek, looking positively frightened. “Jaejoong?”

“Nothing. It’s—later. I’ll tell you later.”

“If you’re sure.”

All the way into the estate, Junsu doesn’t let go of Jaejoong’s arm. Jaejoong is more grateful than he can say.

 

—

 

The wedding is beautiful.

All of Yunho’s close friends cry. Except for Jaejoong. He’s—happy, in a way. Happy that his master has found someone that isn’t a complete idiot and happy that they seem to be compatible. But it also feels as though part of Jaejoong has died, despite the way Yunho beckons for him to sit at his feet for the entire ceremony and the way Boa’s eyes water as she kisses Jaejoong’s cheek after the ceremony and thanks him from the bottom of her heart.

“I packed a bag for you,” Yunho tells him, as the King’s carriage pulls up and Yunho is bidding his guests good night. Boa’s already up in her chambers. Waiting. “Are you sure you want to do this?” For a moment, it looks like Yunho’s going to lean in and kiss him. Jaejoong _wants_ to be kissed.

“I don’t want to be here.”

Yunho swallows. The moment is over. “Stay as long as you need. Jinki can handle things here.”

“I know.”

“Be good.”

“I’m always good,” Jaejoong smiles, but they both know what a terrible lie that is. His breath hitches as Yunho’s hand lands on his shoulder, his finger rubbing a bit of skin. It’s the most physical contact they’ve had in days.

“Ready?” Junsu asks, stepping up next to them. He’s smiling. _He doesn’t know_ , Jaejoong thinks, _he doesn’t know that my world is falling apart_. 

“Yes,” Jaejoong says, even though what he really means is no. Not ever. He will never, ever be ready to leave the love of his life with another woman. 

Junsu blinks, stares down at Yunho’s fingers against the porcelain of Jaejoong’s skin. “Is that it?”

“What?” Yunho asks.

His fingers tighten, nearly imperceptible but Jaejoong is so attune to him at the moment, he can’t help but notice, even if he doesn’t understand what it means.

“Oh,” Junsu breathes, “I see. Well, let’s go, then.”

“Sleep well, pretty Faerlamore,” Yunho says.

Jaejoong can only nod, before Junsu’s arm goes around his waist and ushers him into the carriage. He refuses to look back, not wanting to know if Yunho’s watching or perhaps already turned away, eager to go greet his new wife.

Hyunwoo is asleep in Changmin’s lap, Seungho drowsing similarly on the King’s. No one is really paying him much attention, save Junsu.

“Are you alright?” Junsu asks, weaving their fingers together.

Emotions are bubbling up in Jaejoong’s throat, memories he’s shoved down all day and heroically tried to forget. He’s afraid if he opens his mouth, he’ll cry, that the dam inside of him will burst and he doesn’t want to wake the children, or Changmin, who also seems to have fallen asleep. So Jaejoong presses his lips together until it hurts and only shakes his head.

Lips press against his cheek, Junsu whispers that it’ll all be alright, and Jaejoong screws his eyes shut and concentrates on thinking about nothing at all.

Jaejoong makes it into Junsu’s chambers, the King—Yoochun—shutting the door behind the three of them, the children ushered somewhere by Changmin, before Jaejoong breaks down into tears.

“Oh, baby,” Junsu croons, though it’s Yoochun that catches Jaejoong as he pitches forward, and Yoochun that pulls him into his lap and Yoochun that pets his hair and tells him it will all be fine. “Baby, baby, baby,” Junsu clucks.

“What happened?” Yoochun asks, “you barely touched all night, it was so unlike both of you.”

_You mark my words, slave, he’s going to get sick of your face._

“Who told you that?” Yoochun asks, voice harsh.

“Blue Fan Lady,” Jaejoong chokes, feeling snot drip from his nose.

“Who?”

Jaejoong still doesn’t know her name.

“Why are you listening to her then?” Junsu demands, “that’s silly, Yunho loves you. He loves you so much, Jaejoong why are you fighting?”

“Because he’s _married_.”

“And you’re his Faerlamore. You’re in charge of his household, you’ve shared his bed. _For four years_. Jaejoong-ah, what is it? Did he hurt you?”

“No!” Well, at least not physically.

“Then what is wrong? He said you asked him to send you here. Why would you do that?”

But it’s awhile before Jaejoong can calm the sobs wracking his body. Minutes, perhaps hours pass, with Junsu snuggling him from behind as he sits on Yoochun’s lap and the story pours out of him. That Yunho is angry, but he won’t touch him, that they can’t talk about it because they already know everything. That Yunho _ignored_ him, wouldn’t touch him, wouldn’t kiss him back. And Jaejoong did not want to stick around and watch him kiss someone else. _Doesn’t_ want that. Not until Yunho wants to kiss him again.

“I’m going to kill him,” Yoochun says, sounding completely serious.

“No, _please_ don’t day anything. Please don’t tell him. Please don’t.”

“Oh, Jaejoong-ah. This isn’t right. Even though you love each other. You were supposed to _talk_ about this with him.”

Talk. _Talk_ , Jaejoong scoffs, with a particularly loud heave of air. He blows his nose into a handkerchief that Junsu’s holds to his nose. “We talked. He doesn’t want this and I don’t want this but it has to happen anyway. That’s all there is to it.” 

It was inevitable, really. Yunho falling in love with someone else, Yunho tiring of a slave with no freedom, Yunho wanting the softness of a woman. And Jaejoong had ushered her right into his arms. “What have I done?”

“Oh, Baby. Nothing, you’ve done nothing, Jaejoong.”

Nothing. Jaejoong feels the tears coming back, pricking behind his eyelids, the pain in his chest unable to ignore the emptiness he suddenly feels. He’s done nothing. Nothing to keep Yunho close to him, and there’s no one to blame but himself.

 

When Jaejoong wakes up, there’s sunlight on his face. It’s warm and gentle, and he sighs happily, breathing in deep.

It smells like Junsu.

Suddenly, the sunlight isn’t quite so warm, the pillow not quite so soft and the blankets not quite so smooth. Because Yunho’s married. Yunho kissed Boa. Mostly likely made love to her, made her feel good, probably all night long. _Did he tell her he loved her? Did he tell her he’d get rid of me? Did he tell her she’s the only one for him?_

“You’re awake?”

It’s Junsu. He blocks the sunlight, golden yellow making him a dusty halo and now more than ever, he is Jaejoong’s angel. His savior. A protector from his horrific thoughts.

“Barely.”

“Seungho tried to make you breakfast but he accidentally burnt it and lit fire to parts of the kitchens and he’s currently—well. He’s used his second and third warnings for the entire week, let’s just put it that way. So I have tea instead.”

He probably should have laughed, but all Jaejoong can seem to manage is a half-hearted smile. Junsu seems to think that’s just fine, helping Jaejoong to sit up against the pillows with a kiss to his cheek. “S’nice,” Jaejoong mumbles.

“Really?” 

Junsu’s eyes narrow as Jaejoong nods, before the King’s Faerlamore smiles and leans in, mouth pressing against Jaejoong’s, tongue licking his bottom lip a moment, wet and warm and wonderful and gone before Jaejoong can respond.

“Also nice?” Junsu asks, their noses brushing, tea cup still in Junsu’s hands. 

Jaejoong steals it away. “Yes. Not quite as nice as Yunho’s, but still.” Yunho kisses like a current, strong and unyielding, guiding Jaejoong through every step, pushing and pulling and ensconcing him completely with everything that he is. When Jaejoong’s kissed, all he his allowed to think is _Yunho Yunho Yunho_. It’s all he ever wants to think.

With Junsu—it’s sweet. Junsu is warm and kind and a friend. But Junsu can only ever be Jaejoong’s friend.

“You deserve all the nice things in the world,” Junsu tells him.

“Are you going to be in trouble for that?”

“Only if I want to be, and only the nice kind of trouble, I’m sure. After all, we’ve been trying to get you both into our bed for years.”

Jaejoong snorts, nearly spilling his tea. It’s quite lovely, earthy and dark, with just a hint of spice. He’ll need to ask for the specific brew because he thinks he’ll want it again. 

“You can stay with us for as long as you want.”

“I have a position to maintain.” Yunho had, at least, made it very clear that Jaejoong is not to be excused from that. Jaejoong is a slave, after all, and is supposed to do as he is told. 

“I know you don’t want to talk about it with me but—if I can just say this, Jaejoong. Yunho loves you. Everyone knows it and everyone can see it. I have no idea why he won’t touch you, and Yoochun’s forbidden me from asking, but you need to confront him about it. If he doesn’t like you anymore than fine, but he should at least _tell_ you that, not make you guess his meaning. It’s common courtesy.”

Perhaps. 

“I want to punch him in the face,” Jaejoong admits, swallowing another mouthful of the tea.

“That’s true love for you,” Junsu sighs happily, “don’t be such a baby. I did warn you. I’ve been telling you for years that you need to get used to the idea of someone else in his bed.”

“I don’t care about that. He can have as many people in his bed as he wants, so long as he comes back to me.” 

“And how exactly is he going to do that if you’re here with me?”

He’s never been much of a pouter, but Jaejoong seems to be doing it a lot more recently. He’s going to have to stop if Junsu keeps kissing him every time he does. Maybe that’s Junsu’s goal. “Can’t I just be broken-hearted in peace? I just want to be sad that he isn’t kissing me.”

“Tell me when you’re going to go back and maybe I’ll let you.”

“I don’t know. Tomorrow. They need time together.”

Junsu silence means that he agrees. Tomorrow it is then. Jaejoong has a full day and night to be extremely sad. “You had better eat.”

“I’ll eat. Lots of delicious food. And lots of this tea. And you can give me lots of hugs. And so can Seungho.”

“Seungho—may not be allowed. But since you’re asking and I know it will make you happy I’ll see what I can do.”

“Don’t lie to me, Kim Junsu. Everyone knows you have Yoochun wrapped around your little finger.”

“That’s not all he’s wrapped around,” Junsu purrs.

Jaejoong finally laughs.

 

— 

 

Seungho shuffles into his room after Jaejoong had fallen asleep with his head in Junsu’s lap, hair stroked away from his face. But by the time the Prince gets there Junsu is long gone. 

Seungho is sniffling, wiping his eyes with his expensive shirt sleeve as he stands next to the bed and lets outs something of wail as Jaejoong reaches out to pull him up onto the bed. He makes out _JUST WANTED TO MAKE YOU HAPPY_ before it’s lost in unintelligible sobbing against Jaejoong’s shoulder.

Yoochun appears at the door, arms crossed, and tells Jaejoong over the din, “I told him he could have a couple hours with you, since he really did just want to cheer you up a little. But then he needs to get back to studying.” Probably lessons with Changmin. Yoochun had discovered, soon after taking Changmin under his wing, that he is incredibly well learned for a servant, quite a bit more so than several of the nobles and on par with some of the respected scholars. The King hadn’t wasted any time assigning him duties with the very young Crown Prince, ones that Changmin takes very seriously.

“We’ll make good use of the time,” Jaejoong promises, already feeling so much better. Admittedly, children do that for him, automatically.

“Do you need anything else?” Yoochun asks, face softening a bit. “Want me to bully Yunho for a little while? I don’t mind.”

“No, it’s fine. Let him be happy.”

Yoochun sighs. “Are you sure he’s happy?”

“You sound like Junsu.”

“We are rather close,” Yoochun tells him, “in case you weren’t aware. Quite often we have the same thoughts. Also we _talk_ ,” he continues, pointedly.

“Father! Go away! You promised!”

“Right, I did. I’ll be back in a few hours to take him to Changmin. Have fun.” 

“I—“ Jaejoong starts, and then presses on carefully, “I’ll take him to Changmin. I want to see him anyway.”

Yoochun considers this. “How about I send Changmin to you? It’s not that I don’t trust you, it’s just you and Seungho have a track record of getting a little distracted.”

It’s unfortunately truer than Jaejoong would like to admit, so he just nods. The door shuts softly, Seungho’s face still buried in Jaejoong’s neck. He’d stopped crying and whether the tears earlier were a show or not, Jaejoong doesn’t know. Or care. Either way, the six year old boy is here and making him feel more alive. 

“What did your father promise you?”

“Not to stay in here with me.”

Jaejoong laughs, patting the Prince’s hair and kissing his cheek. “My Prince, what on earth are we going to be doing that your father cannot see?”

“Nothing,” Seungho says, “but I don’t like it when he _hovers_.”

“You did just burn the kitchens, or so I heard.”

“Well, I’m not going to burn _you_.”

“I know that, and so does your father, which is why he isn’t here.”

“I don’t want to go to lessons.”

“I don’t want to go back to Yunho. But you’re a Prince and you must learn, and I am Yunho’s Faerlamore and I must serve. So instead of whining, let us make use of the time we have.”

They read together, or at least Jaejoong reads out loud to Seungho, stories about princes and dragons and faeries. They paint together, a picture of Seungho the Prince in all his stick figure glory wielding a sword to defeat the fire-breathing dragon named Changmin that has taken over the library and threatens to make every child study complicated figures until they wither and die. 

_He’s only six_ , Jaejoong laments to himself, but as always has to concede that Seungho is a price. The Crown Prince, and this is how it must be. After all, Yoochun’s father had been twice as terrible to him, never mind Junsu, so in perspective, Seungho has it easy. He is loved, and that is what matters.

By the time they’ve started a pillow fight, Changmin arrives, his four year old son in his arms. His eyelids are drooping, but as soon as he sees Seungho trying to hit Jaejoong’s butt with a pillow, Hyunwoo’s squirming and screeching to be let down so he can join them. 

“Hyunwoo,” Changmin warns, and his son pauses mid gallop to bow carefully to Seungho before climbing up into Jaejoong’s arms and landing a wet kiss on his cheek. It makes Jaejoong miss Yunho more than he cares to admit. These kisses are terribly unhelpful.

“He doesn’t have to bow to me,” Seungho says, pillow poised in the air.

“Yes, he does,” Changmin scoffs, giving a bow of his own, “if Junsu ever catches him there will be hell to pay. I’d like for my son to avoid being in trouble, if at all possible. Speaking of Junsu…” Changmin finally reaches them and presses a kiss of his own over the same spot as his son. “That’s from him.”

“What sort of blackmail is hanging over your head?” Jaejoong asks. Changmin’s barely ever touched him, never mind kissed him. Blackmail is the only explanation and Junsu excels at manipulating people to get exactly what he wants.

“Not important. What matters is how you’re doing.” 

“Surviving,” Jaejoong says, and sets Hyunwoo back onto the ground.

“I don’t want to study,” Seungho pouts.

“I’m sure we can play one more game,” Jaejoong tells him.

“Faerlamore,” Changmin warns.

“Chess,” Jaejoong suggests, knowing Seungho has starting learning it for strategy. “Changmin and I will play each other and you can be on my team. If I win, he’ll give you less lines to write today, how is that?”

Changmin’s frown means he disapproves, but he doesn’t say no, only sighing as Jaejoong begins to set up the chess board on one of Junsu’s tables. It’s mostly in his room for decoration, because he loathes the game, but Jaejoong doesn’t mind playing now and again. He’s bound to lose to Yunho’s former butler, but he needs a little more time with the children. He doesn’t want them to go.

“I do appreciate that you tried to cook me food,” he tells the Prince, lifting him onto his lap. Hyunwoo’s fallen asleep again, snuffling into his fathers shoulder.

“My Jaejoong can’t be sad,” Seungho sniffs, setting his cheek to palm as he watches Jaejoong move the their first pawn forward. Changmin blocks it immediately.

“I’m not yours. I belong to Yunho.”

“Then he shouldn’t make you cry.”

“Ah, Seungho.” Jaejoong sets taps his chin a moment before brushing his thumb on the Prince’s cheek. “It’s inevitable that the people you love will some day hurt you. It’s how you fix things afterwards that distinguishes them from the people that don’t care.”

He should probably take his own advice, Jaejoong thinks sourly, as he watches Seungho think about this for a moment. “Does that makes sense, my fair Prince?”

“A little.”

“Your father is upset with you right now, is he not? You choose the next piece. Think ahead.”

Seungho’s mouth twists as he moves a pawn. “Yes.” 

“Does he remain upset at you? Or do you—“ Jaejoong feels a little stab of guilt, “or do you talk with him after he’s explained why he’s upset and do you both try to make it right? Do you love your father less because of it?”

“I love him more than anything,” Seungho says, as he takes one of Changmin’s knights with a bishop.

Changmin takes his bishop with his queen. “Check,” he says, “pay attention, Seungho.” Jaejoong can almost hear Seungho through the scowl on his face _this is suppose to be fun_. 

“We should think about our castles, my Prince.”

They play for awhile more, Changmin not giving them any leeway, and after another ten minutes have passed, Jaejoong’s forced to tip his King over in surrender. 

“You couldn’t have just _let_ us win?” Seungho grumbles.

“Sometimes you are so like Junsu I wonder if you are his child and not Yoochun’s,” Changmin comments, but dutifully bows his head when Jaejoong reaches across the table to punch him in the shoulder. Changmin certainly isn’t the first to wonder about it, but even just at six, Seungho looks so much like Yoochun—from this smile to his eyes to his hands and feet—there is no longer any room for doubt.

“Time to go, my Prince,” Changmin says, “your Father will come to check on us soon and both of us should be there there when he does. I do believe you’re in enough trouble already for nearly burning the kitchen down, there’s no need to add to that, yes?”

“And no need for you to get in any either,” Jaejoong adds. 

“That too,” Changmin nods. “Are you coming to the Hall for dinner? Yoochun said you could sit with me at the table if you want.”

“I don’t think so. Too many people will talk about me being there without Yunho.”

“Jaejoong, if you’re so worried for his image then why are you here at all?”

“Because I’m angry.”

“Then go tell him. Gods, you’re an idiot.”

“I am not.” He’s just hurt. He’s sad and angry and he wants to _be_ sad an angry for a little while longer. 

“I’ll tell Junsu; I’m sure he’ll send food up to you.”

“Thank you.”

“Take a nap or something,” Changmin sighs, grabbing ahold of Seungho’s hand and hefting Hyunwoo up higher on his hip. “You look awful.”

Once they leave, and the room becomes impossibly quiet, loneliness creeping back in, a nap seems like the only thing Jaejoong can do.

 

— 

 

Jaejoong wakes to something warm and wet against his throat. It’s a nice feeling and his brain automatically supplies the thought: _lips_. Lips kissing their way up his throat, breath gentle against his skin; if it’s Junsu, Jaejoong’s going to kill him.

But it’s not. 

Once his eyes are focused enough, he finds Yunho laying on the bed beside him; their noses brush, breath mingles, before Yunho smiles. “Good afternoon, pretty Faerlamore.”

His fingers sliding down Jaejoong’s hipbone make the slave’s breath hitch. He needs this. He’s _missed_ it. “Why are you here?” he asks instead. _You’re supposed to be angry at him!_

“To take you back before Yoochun can convince you to stay.”

“Oh.” It’s hard not to glance down at Yunho’s mouth, hard not to run a hand down his back or tug on the nape of his neck and pull him down for a kiss. Jaejoong really wants a kiss. Even if Yunho doesn’t want it, he’s going to go crazy with their bodies pressed together in every place except for their mouths. “Kiss me?”

Jaejoong can’t help the tear that leaks out of the corner of his eye. Yunho kisses him chastely first, the two of them gasping in the silence of the room, the sound as loud as a typhoon, and then deep, his tongue licking against Jaejoong’s mouth as he traps his Faerlamore against the sheets.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry I ignored you and let you leave,” he whispers, when breathing through their noses is no longer possible, “please come back with me so I can apologize properly and make it right.”

“Are you just saying that because Yoochun threatened to chop off your head?”

Yunho laughs, his smile brighter than all the sun Jaejoong’s been soaking in through the window, happier than Jaejoong’s seen him in days (weeks, really.) “I’m here because I love you and I want to do things the right way and I feel like a complete asshole. But, Yoochun may have mentioned something about putting my head on a spike if I didn’t fix you.”

“I’m not broken.”

Tingles spread on Jaejoong’s cheek at Yunho’s palm cups it, spreading across his chest and traveling down to his toes at a leisurely pace. His swallows as Yunho dips his head in again to kiss at the tear track running down Jaejoong’s skin, following it into the hollow of his throat where he whispers, “Kim Jaejoong, come home with me.”

 

— 

 

In theory, it’s very romantic. In practice, Yunho’s still married and Jaejoong’s still broken hearted. But he’s broken hearted because he loves Yunho desperately and even with nothing left he can’t stay away, no matter what crime or grievance Yunho has committed. Jaejoong is the moth to Yunho’s light, even if it means he’s flying right into a burning flame.

“You’re going to talk?” Junsu asks, while Yoochun has Yunho cornered by the carriage. Hyunwoo is in Junsu’s arms, the boy drooling in his sleep and Jaejoong takes a moment to wipe at the corner of his mouth. He is so like his father.

“Yes. I might even yell a bit. But I can’t stay away. I can’t be without him.”

“I know you can’t.” Junsu leans in to kiss his cheek and this time Jaejoong smiles. “But I think you’ll find that he doesn’t expect you to stay away and he doesn’t think you’re actually this upset.”

“So then why wouldn’t he kiss me?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know at all, Jaejoong, but I can pretty much guarantee you that it isn’t for the reasons you think. Just—listen to each other.”

“I will. After I scream in his face.”

Yunho’s face is impassive as he rests a hand on Jaejoong’s waist to guide him into the carriage and then settling in beside him, giving a final wave to the King. “I’m not a woman,” Jaejoong hisses.

“I never said you were,” Yunho replies, “you just look like you haven’t eaten since you came here. The last time I saw you this pale, you were almost trampled by a horse so excuse me if I’m being a little protective.” He gives Jaejoong a sidelong look. “ _Did_ you eat?”

“Some,” Jaejoong mutters, trying not to feel bad about his behavior. 

“But not enough, clearly.” Yunho taps the side of the carriage and a guard riding along side bends down to talk as Yunho pushes aside the curtain. “Ride ahead to the estate, please, and make sure that food I wanted prepared is brought up to my rooms immediately.”

“Yes, sir,” the guard salutes and he gallops ahead.

“I’m fine,” Jaejoong huffs, folding his arms.

“You’re not. If you were fine you’d be sitting properly and not pouting at me like that. You don’t feel good and you’re hungry, please let me take care of you. That’s my job, Faerlamore, and more importantly, my pleasure.”

They are silent the rest of the ride home, but Jaejoong tentatively leans his head on Yunho’s shoulder in apology and feels worlds better when Yunho takes his hand and holds on tight, keeps holding on tight when they arrive at the estate and all the way through the halls and into Yunho’s chambers, his thumb rubbing the bones and veins of Jaejoong’s fingers.

Food is waiting for them as promised, and Yunho makes sure Jaejoong eats as much as he can manage before finally pushing the tray aside.

“I want to give you something before we talk.”

He chooses the floor instead of a chair or the couch (and definitely instead of the bed,) still unsure of his place. But he crosses his legs instead of kneeling; Jaejoong has things he wants to say too.

Yunho rummages in his closet a moment, before pulling out a chest. His muscles strain under the weight, bulging beneath his shirt and Jaejoong swallows at the sight, shoving down an urge to tear off the fabric and run his tongue across the skin.

The chest is made of dark wood, gold lining the ridges and crusted with glittering stones Jaejoong can’t even begin to place. It alone must be worth thousands and Jaejoong can’t imagine what is inside of it. What can such a precious chest hold? 

“Open it,” Yunho prompts.

Jaejoong’s stomach flutters as Yunho scoots up behind him, warmth spreading from his chest and into Jaejoong’s back as arms snake around his middle, Yunho’s chin catching on Jaejoong’s shoulder; they’re nearly cheek to cheek and it sets the Faerlamore’s skin on fire.

The latch is easy to work loose and Jaejoong lifts the top of the chest curiously, cautious in case something were to spill out. But he needn’t have worried, finding only hundreds—perhaps thousands—of gold coins. It can only mean one thing and the tingles and warmth and _happiness_ that had been building up in Jaejoong’s heart sputter out and fear coils in his stomach. 

“What-what is this?”

Lips press against the tattoo on his neck but they (and it) do nothing to assuage the fear growing by the second. “Gold. The hundreds of thousands of pieces of gold that I paid Heechul in order to purchase you.”

No. _No_ , Jaejoong thinks.

“I’m freeing you. I don’t want you to—“

“NO!” 

Coins scatter all over the floor as the chest goes flying, Jaejoong shoving it away and wrenching himself from Yunho’s arms. He should have just stayed with Junsu. He should have not gotten his hopes up, he should have done anything besides think it could all go back to normal. “No, no, no, you can’t. You can’t set me free, you cannot! _I won’t allow it_.” Yunho’s jaw drops, hands frozen in the air where he’d reached for Jaejoong to try and pull him back. 

Jaejoong throws himself into a kneeling position, forehead pressed to the floor and his hands grasping at the bottom of Yunho’s tunic, at his feet. The tears come unbidden. “Don’t send me away, please don’t do this, please not this. Anything but this. You can cane me or starve me or—“

“Jaejoong!“

“I have nothing but you,” Jaejoong gasps, “nothing but this house and the people in it and I love you. You said I could love you and that I could tell you _how much_ I adore you and I do. I have never loved anyone in the entire world like I love you, Jung Yunho, and I don’t care how many people you sleep with or how many people you kiss as long as you come back to me. Please—please just come back to me, you don’t even have to touch me, just please don’t send me away.”

Jaejoong’s hands are trembling in the fabric of Yunho’s clothing, his throat raw as he babbles for mercy and sobs onto the soft carpet, eyelashes sticking together. _No, no, no, no, no,_ he thinks, because he can’t get enough air into his lungs as Yunho reaches out to raise his head and wipe at his cheeks, “Pretty Faerlamore, I didn’t even get to finish my sentence. Calm down, please calm down, take a deep breath. I’m not going to send you away. I couldn’t bear it if you went away.”

Words aren’t going to change his mind, not so easily, yet Yunho is nothing but sincere as he wipes at Jaejoong’s cheeks and looks on the verge of a break down himself. 

“Come here,” Yunho says, and pushes the coins on the floor away to make room for Jaejoong to curl into him as he hiccups, unable to calm himself, even as Yunho crushes him to his chest and kisses the crown of his head. “Just breathe, you’re going to make yourself sick.”

He’s rocked back and forth as he tries to surface the tide of emotion drowning him, gripping tight. “Silly Faerlamore. I never said I was going to throw you out.”

“You-want-to- _free_ -me,” Jaejoong wails, gasping between each word. Slaves being freed are given money. Slave being kicked out are _given money_. To buy a house, to afford food, to _use_ , because the slave’s services are no longer needed.

“Oh, baby. If you had let me finish what I was going to say. Shush. _Shush_ , Kim Jaejoong. You’re not going anywhere. Calm down so I can explain and know for sure you are listening.”

It isn’t instantaneous, but eventually, after using many handkerchiefs and letting Yunho up to get a wet cloth to wipe at his face, Jaejoong falls silent. He feels incredibly weak, clinging to his master as he helps him up onto the bed (that smells fresh and clean like it hadn’t been slept in at all since Jaejoong had last been in it.) “You’re unbelievable.” 

“You broke my heart.”

Yunho sighs. “I know. I know, and I’m very sorry. Can I please talk without being interrupted?”

Jaejoong nods.

Carefully, Yunho begins to pull at Jaejoong’s robes, exposing his shoulders, his back and turning him. A mouth descends on the tattoos there, wet kisses pressing into ink and lines of spit trailing across the swirling colors to the lobe of Jaejoong’s ear. He’s half hard without even realizing it, unable to contain his shudders, flesh rising in goosebumps as Yunho’s hands fold over his stomach. “I want you to remember what these mean. They are permanent, Jaejoong, marks that mean you belong to me forever, no exceptions, not even death. You’re right that I said you could love me. You can. I want you to and I love you back. I’ve _said_ that I love you back. I’d like to think we have been—loving each other, I mean. 

“I was upset when you were having your little tantrum over Boa. Not because I thought you weren’t being a good slave, but because I didn’t know why you thought a marriage to her would make me love you any less. I was frustrated and angry and I should have talked to you then but I could tell that you were upset too and—Yoochun told me what you said. About how we both just knew that this had to happen and so we mutually agreed to not talk about it to save ourselves the heart ache.”

Jaejoong’s heart is thumping so loud he can barely hear what Yunho is whispering into his ear, hands soothing his stomach as it tries to escape through his mouth in absolute panic. Yunho isn’t right. There’s nothing Jaejoong’s more mad about than being ignored, being passed over for a _girl_. 

He’s turned again, his clothes still half off him even though there’s a slight chill to the air. It will be autumn soon: their favorite season, their favorite time to go walking out in nature.

“You _like_ being my Faerlamore. You like this strange dynamic of master and slave that we have, you like _punishment_. You like when I pull your hair and make you kneel. You like when I spank you and I tie you up and you also like it when it’s just us. When there’s no master or slave or anyone in charge and—”

“You like it too,” Jaejoong cuts in, glaring. This is fast becoming the most humiliating conversation.

“I do. I even like when you try and take charge.”

“You said you wanted it.”

“I do.” They both like it, they both _love_ it when Jaejoong orders Yunho around a little, strictly behind closed doors. They can never do more than that since there’s too large a chance of someone bursting through the door with an emergency, and if they saw Yunho tied up with Jaejoong hovering over him there would be hell to pay.

“I like what we have, Jaejoong, and it’s not that I want to _stop_ doing those things, I just—I want more.” Yunho sighs. “I’m getting off topic. Jaejoong, what made you think I’d ever be tired of you?”

_You mark my words, slave, he’s going to get sick of your face._ The words ring in Jaejoong’s ears, pound in his heart and he doesn’t know what Yunho can say to him to make it go away.

“Oh, Jaejoong. Why—why would you listen to her? No, don’t answer that. I can’t believe you would—“ Yunho huffs, unable to finish his sentence as he glares, his eyes boring holes into Jaejoong and suddenly making him feel like this entire thing is completely his fault.

“Don’t you dare,” Jaejoong whispers, a little afraid to raise his voice, “don’t you dare blame this on me. I’m the slave here, I’m the one that will have nothing left if you push me aside. You can’t ask me to not be worried, Yunho, you can’t. Every slave worries. Every Faerlamore worries because despite the tattoos and binding legalities, if a master truly wants to get rid of his slave he can.” Jaejoong pauses a moment, “well, every Faerlamore except Junsu. Junsu’s never worried about that.” Junsu has always been Yoochun’s. He’s always belonged to the Prince and he always will.

Fingers are tracing his tattoos, Yunho’s nails scraping lightly against his skin before they travel up his neck to rest against his cheek. “What have I taken away from you?” Yunho demands. “What, Jaejoong? Do we need to design another tattoo? Would that help? I’ve put you in charge of my household, you have power over everything, including Boa. I never said that was gone.”

“You want to free me,” Jaejoong retorts, feeling his face flush under Yunho’s touch, his anger not helping to keep the color in them down.

“No,” Yunho corrects, “that’s not it at all. If you had let me explain we could have avoided all of this. Now pay attention. I just—I want you to _have_ something. I was angry. I was angry that you wouldn’t support me and part of me knew you were doing it because you _like_ punishment, but part of me knew you were a little serious. And that bit between us that was serious—that bit now—I knew we had to discuss, to figure out, but not by me tying you up or spanking you. You were upset with me because I took a wife, because she has a social status you will never be able to achieve. She’s a free person, who can choose to be with me, who can have a house and a horse and possessions to call her own. She calls no one master and can look at me as an _equal_ which frightens you. And it upsets me as well. I was frustrated that I can’t treat you like I can her, I’m frustrated that we are master and slave and that there are rules and protocols we have to follow. I’ve tried to not let that between us. We call each other by our names and support each other in almost everything. So when you wouldn’t support me in my marriage, something I _have_ to do, I wasn’t just angry with you as a master. I was angry as your friend, as your lover, and it didn’t seem right to me to address the topic as master and slave. But that’s all we are unless we’re fucking so I didn’t know what to do.”

“So you gave me the _silent treatment_?” Jaejoong asks incredulously. He feels like Yunho’s just knocked the wind out of him. “Are you serious?”

“I didn’t mean to do it. I just didn’t know what to tell you. I didn’t know how to talk to you—how to be angry at you—without also being your master. I was afraid if I touched you I’d give in and just address all of ours problems like I normally do—without letting you have a say. I didn’t kiss you as a form of punishment: I didn’t kiss you because I didn’t _want_ to punish you.” 

Something in the back of Jaejoong’s brain clicked, and even though he is still incredibly angry at Yunho, part of his fury gives way to understanding. Yunho knew Jaejoong wanted a spanking, wanted to be made to kneel for a few hours because that’s what he knows, that’s something he can do and something that allows them both to move on. But not on towards something new. Not onto a functioning relationship, not towards being _equal_.

“We can’t be equals.”

“No,” Yunho agrees, “no, we can’t. At least, not in front of any one. But Jaejoong, we can behind closed doors. I want that behind closed doors and we never have been. In the back of our minds we have always been master and slave and that is why you’re angry and that is why I’m scared. And that is why I am giving you all of that money. Not to send you away, not to sell you to someone else. I don’t want you to tell anyone you have it. I want you to lock it up in your chambers and keep it there. I want just the two of us to know about it so that just between the two of us you are free. You are not a slave when you are with me, you are not even a Faerlamore. You are just Jaejoong, whom I love more than anything in this world. So please accept it. Please accept _me_.”

In the midst of Yunho’s speech Jaejoong had begun to shake and not from the chill. By the time Yunho’s finished, Jaejoong is crying, feeling slightly ashamed at his behavior and yet still a little angry at Yunho for not just saying this _at the beginning_. 

“I’m sorry,” Yunho says, “I’m so, so sorry. Yoochun’s lectured me and Junsu and Changmin and Jinki, politely, bless his heart, and even Boa. You really did pick the best possible wife for me, Jaejoong, not because we’re alike and not because she’s sweet or nice, but because she realizes what you mean to me. She told me she will protect the both of us for as long she lives, so long as I smarten up and fix the mess I’ve made of our relationship. So please say yes. Please say that we can love as equals, and live as equals, even if it’s just in private. Because we have only been pretending.”

Tears are wiped away, his vision swimming as Yunho pulls him to his chest and rocks, lips descending on his cheeks and the crown of his head. Yunho is right. They’ve only been pretending, only been acting that they are the same, because deep down, Jaejoong knows they aren’t. They both know that they are not and that nothing can change it so why bother? 

“These things I’ve given you—tattoos, titles—they are what everyone else has. These are what all Faerlamores receive so I don’t blame you, I don’t blame _us_ , for the pretense. But no one has a chest of gold. At least that I’m aware. So let it—let it represent between the two of us everything we’ve ever wanted the other to be. Please, Jaejoong. Please say yes.”

Even though he wants to talk, he can’t. So he holds tighter, nods against Yunho’s neck _yes yes yes yes yes_ until his breath returns and gasping, cradles Yunho’s cheeks and kisses him. A kiss for every night they’d gone to bed angry, a kiss goodbye for when he’d left for the castle, a kiss hello for when he’d returned. A kiss for all the times they met in the hallway and didn’t touch, a kiss for all the times they could have had sex and didn’t. A kiss for all the “I love yous,” they hadn’t said over the past few days, and this time, Yunho kisses him back.

They forgive and are forgiven. 

When Yunho pulls away, their lips red, faces flush for a different reason, there’s only one thing on their minds. They can make sweet love together in the morning; now is not the time.

Jaejoong pulls Yunho’s clothes off. Jaejoong pushes Yunho down onto the bed. Jaejoong straddles Yunho’s waist. “No,” he says, when Yunho makes to roll them over, “tonight, I am in charge.”

He needs this. He wants it, and his heart soars when Yunho relaxes, nodding, hands finding Jaejoong’ legs and smoothing over the skin. “You know,” he comments, as Jaejoong nips a line of red from his ear to his collarbone, thinking _I’ve missed his taste, I’ve missed his smell_ , “since I’m married now, you can probably tie me up. Because if something goes wrong, Boa will come to get me first and she won’t care how I’m trussed up.”

Jaejoong’s mouth stops just above Yunho’s belly button, frozen a moment as Yunho’s hands weave into his hair and then dig into the sore spots of his shoulders. “No,” he murmurs, “I want your hands all over me. But I’m in charge and if I say stop, you listen.”

“Mm,” Yunho agrees, Jaejoong’s mouth already covering his, tongue licking into it, like they’ve both forgotten each other and need to remember how everything feels. It all comes back to them, even though it hasn’t been very long, a tidal wave of a emotion guiding fingers, hands, _skinskinskinskin_. Not enough bare skin, not enough space to kiss, to touch, to _know_. 

Jaejoong falls back against the bed, coaxing Yunho between his legs, both of them groping for a pot of oil, Yunho coming up with it triumphantly, his smile setting Jaejoong’s heart skittering into his stomach. “May I?” he asks, laving at the skin and sending the rest of Jaejoong’s wits somewhere into the next kingdom. 

_He’s asking,_ Jaejoong thinks, groaning as Yunho sucks a hickey over his hipbone, _he’s asking permission because I’m not just a pleasure slave he can touch whenever he likes, I’m not just his_ Faerlamore, _I am more. I’m so much more._. Also, Jaejoong is in charge. “Yes,” he breathes, trying to keep his voice from shaking, from showing how much it _affects_ him, “you may.” 

Yunho worships him. He often does, but for some reason, tonight it’s different. Tonight, Yunho’s careful attention to Jaejoong’s body is making him incoherent and by the time Yunho is three fingers deep, mouth on every centimeter of skin it can reach, Jaejoong’s thrashing in the sheets. It’s only when the fingers are gone that Jaejoong remembers _I am in control_ and he shoves Yunho back down again, swiveling both his oil slicked hands around Yunho’s cock until he shouts in frustration. 

“I’m in charge. No touching until I say.”

He kisses the tip of Yunho’s dick, digging his tongue into the leaking slit to make Yunho squirm, to push him that closer to the edge, just so Jaejoong can deny him. “Don’t you dare come before me.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Yunho wheezes, and his fingers yank at the sheets, ripping them where they’re caught against the bed frame. “Let me touch you so I can make sure of it.”

“No,” Jaejoong says, palming himself and making sure Yunho can see, knowing exactly how much the sight of him touching his cock affects Yunho; the resulting groan sets Jaejoong’s veins on fire and he grins before swallowing Yunho down, hand tight around his base to keep him from coming. 

“Pleasepleaseplease.” 

Begging is the sweetest sound. Jaejoong licks his lips as he pulls away, admiring the way Yunho’s cock is twitching, curving up against his a stomach that’s hollowing as Yunho heaves for breath. 

“No,” Jaejoong says, “it hasn’t even been five minutes.”

“It’s been days— _oh_ —“ 

Yunho’s eyes fall shut as Jaejoong sinks down onto him, slick and easy, like they’d already been fucking for hours not minutes. Neither of them are going to last long. “Now,” Jaejoong says, watching as Yunho concentrates and tries very hard to stay still. He loves this. Jaejoong loves sliding down onto Yunho and taking control, loves feeling like Yunho’s going to spilt him open—but only when Jaejoong says he can. “One hand on my ass.”

It’s almost immediate. Yunho knows how much Jaejoong likes his ass kneaded, and his fingers waste no time digging into the flesh, trying to get him to move. “One hand on my cock.” The touch nearly pushes him over the edge right there, but he takes a deep breath to settle himself, even as Yunho’s fingers run the length of him, encasing him tight, up and down, thumb wiggling it’s way across the head. Jaejoong groans, feels himself leak down over Yunho’s hand and _gods_ Yunho knows just what he likes, what he wants.

Words become difficult after that, Jaejoong makes a rhythm, Yunho having to grip his waist to keep him from tipping over as he finds an angle that sends sparks to the tips of his toes, that turn his gasps into hiccups every time he grinds down and Yunho pushes up, fingers still tight on his cock, fast and slick. He keeps his word, guiding Jaejoong right to the precipice and then pushing him over, with a well aimed thrust and a gentle kiss to the inside of Jaejoong’s wrist. _Such a romantic_ , Jaejoong thinks, vision blurring as his body shudders, cum splattering against Yunho’s stomach and his face and it’s so _pretty_. Jaejoong might just understand why Yunho likes it dribbling out of Jaejoong’s mouth.

“Please,” Yunho is whispering, “please, can we switch, please, Jaejoong.”

Jaejoong collapses as Yunho turns them, moans as Yunho arranges Jaejoong’s legs before pushing right back in, his balls smacking against Jaejoong’s ass and for a moment Jaejoong wonders if Yunho’s going to draw it out to the point that he might actually be able to get aroused enough to orgasm again, but it doesn’t last long. Yunho, having permission to move freely, does so, hips moving desperately, hands tugging at Jaejoong’s hair, mouths attached and tongue fucking into Jaejoong’s mouth like his cock. Jaejoong grins deviously as he rolls his hips and milks Yunho for all he’s worth, closing his eyes as he listens to Yunho moan out his pleasure. 

“I’m going to be leaking you everywhere for days,” Jaejoong complains, when Yunho finally calms.

Yunho pinches his arm. “Not if I fuck it out of you first…wait. We just had the greatest sex ever and that’s the first thing you say?”

Jaejoong laughs, bright and happy, and it’s so nice he almost starts to cry. “I love you,” he says tilting his head up as Yunho’s arms come around him and their lips meet messily, spit and cum and sweat all over their mouths and faces and hands. The sheets are forever ruined.

“You’re sexy when you’re in charge.”

“I like it.”

“Me too. Next time tie me up.”

Jaejoong laughs. “We should sleep in my bed. This is really gross.”

“If you want. Bath first, though?”

“Mm.”

It’d been a long time since they’d been able to indulge in a bath together, since before the ladies arrived at court. Speaking of which…

“Where is Boa tonight?”

“With Jinki, getting acquainted with the staff.” Yunho rings the bell for bath water to be drawn.

“Did you have a good night with her?”

Yunho raises an eyebrow.

“Did you?” Jaejoong presses. “Now that I’m no longer angry, I feel the need to make sure you didn’t hurt her.”

“I didn’t—why would I hurt her?”

“Well, I don’t know.”

The sound of water filters in from the bathroom along with the quiet whispering of servants and Jaejoong shivers as Yunho breathes across his skin. “She said it was the best night of her life. Happy?”

“I suppose.”

“You’re going to ask her, aren’t you? She’s going to be so embarrassed.”

“We have to bond over something. Seeing as I don’t like women and will not be sleeping with her, talking about our sexual escapades with you over tea is going to have to suffice.”

“ _Jaejoong!_ ” Yunho hisses, as Jaejoong laughs again, head thrown back.

“It will be fine, dearest Lord of mine. Things between us seem to be back to where they were and getting better every second. It’ll all work out.”

Yunho cups his cheek. “I am sorry.”

“As am I.”

Their kiss is gentle, Jaejoong’s body warming nicely within his arms, lips soft and kind, and they continue until there’s a soft knock indicating the bath is ready. 

There’s special soothing oils already in the water, Jaejoong can smell them and he chuckles as Yunho helps him into the water. “Our midnight activities are no longer a secret,” he jokes, “clearly they know what we’ve been doing when we order a bath this late.”

“Pretty sure it has more to do with your screaming and less to do with the hour of night.”

“I don’t scream.”

“You can be very vocal, my love.”

He doesn’t have time to think about the endearment, something new Yunho has never called him until now, because he’s reaching for the remaining oil and guiding Jaejoong to straddle his lap, allowing his fingers to slip between his legs. “You’re so rough with yourself when you’re in charge.”

“I like it rough,” Jaejoong retorts, but sighs as Yunho’s fingers slip into him. “Feels nice.”

“I know,” Yunho says, and bites his ear, “you need to be more careful.”

“Worried are we?”

“I always worry for you.”

“Not when you hand me a chest of gold, clearly.”

He can just _see_ Yunho’s pout. “I thought we’d worked that out.”

“We did. Completely worked out. But that doesn’t mean I’m not going to tease you for the rest of your life.”

“Not in public.”

“Not in public,” Jaejoong agrees, and they seal it with a kiss. Between Yunho’s gentle ministrations between Jaejoong’s legs and their kiss turning more into a make out session, a second round is looking like a strong possibility. And there’s the smell, too. Yunho smells like himself again, no perfume or weird spices. He smells like he belongs to Jaejoong and it’s incredibly wonderful.

“By the way,” Yunho says suddenly, breaking away, “I discovered why Jinki wanted Boa to come here so badly.”

“Oh?”

“I asked Boa, since you were too busy.”

“My heart was breaking, I was a little pre-occupied.”

Yunho bends down to kiss the space over Jaejoong heart. It’s strangely adorable, and sends tingles down his spine. “Jinki used to sneak into their mansion to be with her brother.”

Jaejoong loses the rest of his sex drive in a flash. “You’re serious?”

“Yes. She says they haven’t done anything since you brought Jinki here to help, but neither of them have been with anyone else since.”

“So, wait, Jinki only wanted Boa here so Minho would visit so they could—“

“Don’t be angry. Give Jinki a chance to tell us, he knows why Changmin had to leave.”

Well, if Yunho puts it that way. “I’m tired.” 

He washes Jaejoong quickly, removing his fingers and grabbing a washcloth, rinsing their hair and emerging much cleaner just as the water begins to cool. They put robes on and take a few minutes to pick up the spilled coins from the floor, sealing them in the chest and each of them grabbing a side, carrying it to Jaejoong’s room. There’s a fire burning out, leaving the room warm. Someone had thought ahead; Jaejoong will have to ask tomorrow and give them a raise. They don’t often sleep in Jaejoong’s room, preferring Yunho’s, but it’s nice every once and awhile. 

Yunho pushes back Jaejoong’s hair, kisses his forehead, his lips. “I love you.”

“Dream of me.”

It doesn’t take long for them to fall asleep.

 

— 

 

When Jaejoong wakes up, there’s sunlight on his face. It’s warm and gentle, and he sighs happily, breathing in deep.

It smells like Yunho.

It’s an incredible improvement from the previous morning.

Yunho’s still asleep, hair mussed all over his scalp and so incredibly sexy. Jaejoong decides in about two seconds that he’s still in charge, and whips back the covers, hands going straight for Yunho’s crotch. The sleep pants are pulled down, and Jaejoong’s mouth lands hot on Yunho’s cock, sucking him down until he feels Yunho coming awake. 

“Missed this,” Yunho gasps, hands carding through Jaejoong’s hair, “missed this so much. Gods, Jaejoong, you’re so good. That feels so good.”

Jaejoong comes off him with a messy pop, precum smearing his lips as he breathes hard and nudges Yunho’s legs up further. Yunho has beautiful legs, his thighs in particular smooth and solid and Jaejoong takes a moment to suck a mark into one of them. “Get me the oil,” he orders, holding out a hand.

For a second, Yunho looks like he’s going to say no, but then his hands reach for the bedside table and Jaejoong holds his legs down, making him stretch, admiring the way his muscles twist and turn and flex in order to reach. He tosses a pot to Jaejoong once his fingertips close around it, frowning like he knows Jaejoong had held him down just to stare at him. “I’m in charge,” Jaejoong reminds him coolly, smearing oil over his hand, licking up Yunho’s dick, and then with a hard suck, slides one finger into Yunho. 

It’s been awhile since they’d done this. Usually, it’s quite often, but Yunho had been so stressed out, Jaejoong had simply allowed Yunho to do whatever he wanted, which is usually to pound into Jaejoong until he’s screaming—not that there’s anything wrong with that and not that Jaejoong doesn’t like it, but this can be very nice in its own way, and Jaejoong’s missed it. Missed the feel of Yunho clenching around his fingers, gasping as Jaejoong thrusts in further and further with his fingers until Yunho’s legs spasm from pleasure and his eyes glaze over. “Oh, did you like that?” Jaejoong asks, now three fingers deep, massaging constantly, over and over, incredibly pleased with himself as Yunho writhes pathetically.

“Please, please touch.” Tears leak out of the corner of his eyes and Jaejoong’s own cock swells. Yunho’s so pretty like this.

“I am touching.”

“Cock. Cock, please.”

“When you do this to me, I can at least ask you nicely _and_ in complete sentences.”

His suggestion is anything but helpful, it seems, because he crooks his fingers again and all Yunho can manage is a moan, rib cage heaving. 

“Maybe I should add another finger,” he muses, “or would you rather something else?”

Yunho hiccups. “Any-anything. Just, please— _anything_.”

“But if I let you come what happens to me?”

“ _Jaejoong_.” Yunho is so pretty when he begs, eyes blown wide, lashes wet and sticking together in desperation, his skin shining with sweat, with exertion to keep himself under control until Jaejoong says otherwise. _So pretty_. Jaejoong would rather just keep watching, he thinks. But still.

It doesn’t take long to slick his own cock, half oil half pre cum, and his grin is feral as he bends Yunho in half, chuckling as Yunho starts to beg. “Should I?” Jaejoong asks, “I really want to make you regret your unbelievable behavior, maybe I should just _leave you_.”

Yunho apparently doesn’t hear him (or elects to ignore him,) because the begging doesn’t stop, and after sliding a hand up the back of Yunho’s thigh (gods, but he has _amazing thighs_ ,) Jaejoong pushes into his body, Yunho’s strangled moan nearly sending Jaejoong over the edge. It had been _so long_.

“Feel so good,” Jaejoong breathes, thrusting once experimentally, making Yunho shout, “so good, Yunho.”

“ _Move_.”

Jaejoong slaps his thigh hard enough to leave a mark and have his hand stinging painfully. Yunho’s cock jerks, more precum spilling out and he leverages himself up and thrusts once, twice, until he finds an angle that has Yunho’s legs tightening around him, breath harsh, eyes screwed shut even as Jaejoong fucks him into the mattress hard. Yunho starts to plead again, trailing his hands up and over Jaejoong’s shoulders and into his hair, trying to yank his head down for a kiss. 

Jaejoong allows it, even as their bodies move together. He can feel his own stomach start to tighten, heat pooling in his belly and feeling generous, surrounds as much of Yunho’s cock as he can with his free hand. Yunho’s never been a screamer, gasping loud once before he comes, and then riding it out silently, shaking, mouth open, eyes shut. His cum goes everywhere again, Jaejoong is pleased to note, back arching even as Jaejoong eases him through the aftershocks. 

He’s about to push Yunho’s legs down, fuck himself into Yunho even harder now that’s he come because _gods_ Jaejoong suddenly needs release like never before, but Yunho takes matters into his own hands, pulling his pelvis back and pushing Jaejoong away with his arms.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Jaejoong hisses, hands going to his dick immediately; they’re knocked away.

“Returning the favor,” Yunho promises, and cups Jaejoong’s ass, “it’s just that, if I remember correctly, I owe you one hell of spanking. I think I should take care of that first.”

“Don’t you dare—“ Jaejoong starts, because he’s _so hard_ and he wants to feel Yunho fingers and his tongue, but it’s too late. He hesitated a moment, chose to speak instead of move away and in a second finds himself pinned over Yunho’s lap, skin stinging from the first slap. 

“Yunho!”

Hands rub over his ass, digging into the flesh and he sighs, gripping the bed sheets and trying not to melt at how _wonderful_ Yunho hands feel. “Be quiet,” Yunho warns him, “just because I let you be in charge for a little while doesn’t mean you get to scream. I’m not going to go easy on you. I regret my rude behavior; now it’s time for you to regret yours.” 

And okay. They can do this, Jaejoong supposes, so long as Yunho lets him come afterwards.

 

 

Jaejoong wakes to Junsu leaning over him, lips pressed against his.

“Ew,” he mutters, “this is not how I wanted to start my morning.”

His friend cackles. “It’s nearer to the afternoon, actually. And I know exactly how you wanted to start it which is why I’m here. Also, in our hurry to help you the other night we forgot to take Jinri back with us—no, don’t feel guilty. She understands, I’ve already talked to her. She’s so sweet, by the way, thank you for that. She’ll make an excellent addition to Yoochun’s court.”

Jaejoong knew she would.

“Where’s Yunho?” he asks, realizing he doesn’t have arms around him, the bed is cold, and gods—his ass is on fire. But his orgasm afterwards had been so amazing it’s incredibly difficult for him to care. After all, just because they’re equal, doesn’t mean they can’t be kinky. In fact, Jaejoong thinks he’s going to insist on it.

“Attending to council matters. I was under strict instructions to let you sleep or else Yoochun will punish me severely.” Junsu grins, unrepentant. “Oops.”

“Too late for remorse,” Jaejoong laughs, stretching, “so better start running now.”

“Even if I wanted to run, I’d never actually get away. Yoochun is far too powerful for that. There’s breakfast for you downstairs. And Boa’s in the house somewhere, I think, trying to figure out if you’re going to make dinner or if she’s going to have to do it. I’m pretty sure she’s keen on that being your job.”

Boa. The wife. Oh yes, Jaejoong had nearly forgotten. But he’s no longer irrationally mad at her and in fact, wants to have a half way decent conversation. But that’s it. He has no intention of being like the King and his wife and their Faerlamores, as fantastic as Junsu makes it all sound. 

Jaejoong’s face is a mess, when he stares at himself in the mirror, but he looks happy. He looks satisfied. He rinses himself off quick, puts on a little make up to cover the bags under his eyes, and then steps out into the corridor, arm in arm with Junsu, telling him about his rather fantastic evening. Stories are the only sexy things he wants to share with his friend.

Yoochun and Yunho are sitting at the table when they get to the dining room, and the first thing Jaejoong does is shove Junsu at the king and say, “He kissed me awake!”

“You little snake,” Junsu manages, before Yoochun has him by his ear and forces him to sit on the floor. Junsu looks supremely pleased and Jaejoong suddenly feels that he has once again played right into his hands. It seems to happen more often than Jaejoong would like to admit.

“He what?” Yunho asks, but Jaejoong doesn’t let him think too hard about it, sitting on his lap and kissing him thoroughly before sliding onto the floor. He keeps the wince off his face because he knows Yunho will tease.

“Breakfast?” Jaejoong asks hopefully.

“Uh—“ Yunho starts, looking a bit dazed. “Lunch, actually.”

Jaejoong eats everything Yunho holds to his lips, pulling at Yunho’s pants when he doesn’t produce food fast enough. Jaejoong would verbally ask, but the conversation with Yoochun seems incredibly important so he eats and begs and fingers the bone of Yunho’s ankle in between.

It isn’t until Yunho’s passed a second cup of tea down to him that they finally wrap up their business. “Boa wants to talk to you.”

“Is he being summoned?” Junsu asks, laughing when Yoochun glares down at him.

“If I were being summoned I wouldn’t have just had a whole meal.”

“You need to do the menus, please,” Yunho sighs, “dinner was a mild disaster without you here. I’ll send Boa to the kitchen.”

They kiss, Junsu crowing the background: “Now that’s more like it!”

It is quite nice, Jaejoong muses to himself, mouth quirking a bit as Yunho pinches his sore bottom, before letting the Faerlamore head down to the kitchen. His favorite maid pounces as soon as she sees him, throwing herself into his arms and making him stumble backwards to try and find his footing. “Don’t ever leave again!” she wails at him, “we’re all useless without you.”

“Are you sure you want to tell me that? I’m pretty sure I’ve taught you a _few_ things.” But he’s teasing. Having a new mistress for the house as well as a Faerlamore gone is bound to cause a lot of mistakes. “Let me see what you have planned.”

He makes it three items down the list before he grimaces and starts to cross things out. “I’ll make the stew,” he tells them, “but make sure you have everything laid out for me. I have some other things to get done today so I don’t have time to prepare for it. And this! What is that dessert? Pick something else.”

“I’ll make the dessert.” 

Jaejoong’s hand freezes over the parchment. He turns, curious, and then thinks _I should have known_. “Boa,” he greets. Like hell he is going to call her by a title. Not because he dislikes her, per say, but they are in front of the staff and he is determined to make it clear that he is in charge. 

“Yunho said you wanted to talk to me.”

And that makes him smile. “So I did.” He places the paper back in the astonished chef’s hands, “take care of those. Boa will let you know what she needs when we come back.” He offers an arm and escorts his master’s wife into one of the pantries and shuts the door in a maid’s face. “Now,” he starts, lifting himself up to sit on a table, “Yunho tells me he gave you the best night of your life.”

“I—“ she looks scandalized, blushing the darkest shade of red he’s ever seen.

“I’m not mad. Well, not at you. I did bring you here after all.”

“Thank you,” she says, still staring at the floor, “thank you so much for coming to find me. I won’t—I won’t ever undermine you. I won’t ever imagine to try and take your place. Not in the household and certainly not in Yunho’s heart.”

“Is that what you wanted to tell me?”

She nods, glancing up quickly as if she planned to look down again straight away but Jaejoong catches her chin with the tip of his finger and holds her gaze steady. “Just so we’re clear, I one hundred percent do not like women in my bed. I am not interested in any kind of womanly parts, so we will not be having any threesomes or orgies or even moments between you and me. It is Yunho and I, and, until you give him an heir, Yunho and you. Am I clear?”

“You prefer cock. Got it.”

Jaejoong laughs. “I like you. I think it would be good if we could be friends too. Let’s make a point to have tea together. Once a day.”

“I’d like that.”

“Excellent. But we’ll start tomorrow. I have too many things to do already and not enough time to get them done.” He hopes off the table, smoothing his robes and offering his arm again. “Dessert better be excellent.”

Boa smile widens as she flips her hair. “Don’t worry. It will be.”

 

— 

 

Dessert is a smashing success. Fruits soaked in sweet wine with vanilla cream and rich pieces of chocolate garnishing it: Jaejoong has never eaten so much of one dish in his life, continuously tugging on Yunho’s clothes in a silent request for more. 

“My pretty Faerlamore approves,” Yunho comments, and from his position on the floor, Jaejoong gives Boa a wink. She looks incredibly relieved and a little voice in the back of Jaejoong’s head decides _she’ll do. She’ll do just fine_. 

He decides not to oversee the cleaning, instead leaving a list of things he wants made for breakfast the following morning, and even allows Yunho to escort Boa back to her chambers without giving him a dirty look. Quite an accomplishment, if he says so himself. Jaejoong has something he wants to sort out anyway. This household is his and regardless of what Yunho says, Jaejoong needs to know what is going on inside of it.

He finds Jinki having an argument with a stable boy and trying very hard to keep his temper, if the way his jaw is clenched is any indication.

“Is something wrong?” Jaejoong asks, as he sidles up next to Jinki. The stable boy goes quite pale.

“No,” Jinki says, and then points at the boy, “you are going to be in for work in the morning as we discussed. I will see you after your morning duties and we will decide how you will best fix this problem. And I understood?” 

The boy nods, looking petrified, though if it’s because of Jaejoong’s sudden presence or Jinki’s glare, the Faerlamore isn’t sure. Jinki shoos him away with a flick of his hand, and then turns a bright smile Jaejoong’s way. “Did you need something?”

Jaejoong decides to let the stable boy slide. If Jinki needs his help, he’ll ask for it. He always has.

“Just to talk.” Jaejoong ushers Jinki into the nearest empty room and locks the door behind him, refusing to be interrupted until he has the answers he wants. “You are aware of why Changmin left?”

“He had a child.”

“A child I didn’t know existed. A _relationship_ that I didn’t know existed.”

Jaejoong waits, watching Jinki’s face as he slowly realizes what Jaejoong is hinting. “I—oh. I’m not in a relationship. I haven’t been for awhile.”

The Faerlamore raises an eyebrow, completely unimpressed. “That’s not what Yunho tells me.”

“I’m not,” Jinki insists.

“Fine, then. You’re in love.”

The butler winces. “I’m not seeing him. He won’t interfere with—“

“Jinki, I’m trying to help you. I don’t care who you see. I don’t care who you fuck. Just tell me. He’s welcome up here anytime he wants. Well, I imagine he’ll be visiting anyway, since his sister lives here now. Yes?”

Jinki looks like he wants to bolt out the door and take his secret with him. But he nods. “Yes, Faerlamore.”

“Fine. Let me know and I will _help you_. Alright?”

“It doesn’t matter. Nothing can come of it.”

“Maybe eventually it will be difficult. But right now I’m offering you a way to see him. Take it or leave it, just not behind my back, understand?”

Jinki nods. 

“Good.” 

 

— 

 

Yunho’s reading in bed when Jaejoong finally makes his way up to their chambers, a few hours later. His master sets the book aside almost immediately as Jaejoong crawls up onto the covers and straddles Yunho’s lap, dipping his head for a kiss. He smells so wonderful.

“You went to talk to Jinki, didn’t you?”

“I did,” Jaejoong nods, “I imagine Minho will visit us often.”

“You always have to meddle, don’t you?”

“Try and stop me. We’ll see how far you get.”

“I know better than that.”

Hands that had previously been resting on Jaejoong’s thigh come up to push through his hair; Yunho tugs him down for another kiss. “Are you busy tonight?” he asks, a twinkle in his eye.

“Going to tie me up?”

This is how it starts, sometimes, Yunho teasing him, Yunho finding a tiny flaw to exploit so they can have kinky master and slave sex. It looks like Yunho doesn’t want that to go away either, equals or not. But to his surprise, Jaejoong’s kissed again, only chaste. “No, just want to love you. Properly.”

Something about the sincerity in Yunho’s eyes makes Jaejoong pause, head cocked to the side as his stomach curls happily, finally reaching up into his lips to form a smile, even as Yunho pushes him off his lap, lays him down carefully on the bed. “No one in charge, this time,” Yunho murmurs, fitting easily between Jaejoong’s legs, kissing him up against the pillows, his hands sliding underneath clothing and around it to undo buttons and pull apart a sash. Jaejoong reciprocates, both of them shrugging the final pieces off between kisses, the silk and cotton flying from the bed in a swirl of color and landing on the floor. 

It’s been awhile since they’ve been able to just take their time. Jaejoong feels like he needs to relearn every part of Yunho’s body, figure out exactly how to touch him, how to make him crazy, but he’s beaten to it. 

Yunho’s mouth finds his birthmark first, sucking lightly and biting a trail down his collarbones, lips dragging across his chest and pulling goosebumps up from his skin. He laves at Jaejoong’s nipples, smiling at the noises he’s pulling from Jaejoong’s mouth and by the time his hands are sliding down the planes of Jaejoong’s stomach, mouth glistening with spit, all Jaejoong can do is latch onto his arms and hold on for dear life.

“I love you,” Yunho breathes, dumping the rest of their pot of oil onto his hands and as he pushes a finger into Jaejoong, one leg hitched over his shoulder, he kisses the knee, up his thigh, before biting, distracting Jaejoong as he gets in another finger and crooks, making him keen. “Pay back’s a bitch, isn’t it?” he asks and Jaejoong scrabbles for purchase on the sheets, leg spasming as Yunho thrusts his fingers experimentally, “let’s go for three?”

“ _Yunho_ ,” Jaejoong gasps, and nearly shouts as Yunho’s other hand flits a moment over his cock. “Please. Move. Your—” Jaejoong hisses and then realizes he isn’t being held down and so moves himself, undulating his hips in order to fuck himself down onto Yunho’s fingers, pleasure starting to zing through him. 

“You’re so sexy like this,” Yunho whispers, “God, I could come just from watching you, feeling you around me. But I really want this to last.”

The loss of the fingers does not please Jaejoong in the least, though he bites down on his lips and doesn’t whine when he realizes Yunho is slicking up his cock. He can be patient and wait for cock; cock is always better than fingers, _especially_ when that cock belongs to Yunho. Everything is better when it has to do with Yunho.

His master glides into him slow, Jaejoong hiccuping, a burn spreading through his pelvis and turning into warmth that flows straight to his fingertips. “Pretty Faerlamore,” Yunho whispers, right into his ear, kissing it as he lets Jaejoong adjust a moment. “Prettiest, most beautiful Faerlamore there ever has been and ever will be. I love you.”

Jaejoong locks his ankles around Yunho’s back and cups his cheeks, their noses aligning, eyes meeting as they pant into each other’s mouths. It occurs to Jaejoong that he doesn’t know what to say. _I love you too_ seems too obvious, _show me_ seems unromantic considering the circumstances, and so Jaejoong bumps their noses and chooses to kiss Yunho instead. It seems a fair compromise, especially since Yunho kisses back, beginning to rock easy into Jaejoong, mouths fused until he tips his head back in a desperate need for air, a high pitched whine coming from his throat as Yunho bites down on his neck, tongue tracing the veins standing out as Jaejoong keens after a particularly accurate thrust of Yunho’s hips. His toes curl in reflex, and there’s something about this time—something so different than all the other hundreds of times Yunho has taken him to bed. They’ve never quite done anything like this before—there’s so much kissing, so much touching. Jaejoong doesn’t think Yunho’s touched him so much in their entire time together, fingers everywhere, lips never still, even as he splits Jaejoong open, slow and dirty and deep.

“Please,” Jaejoong whispers, “please, Yunho, please let me. I need to—Yunho!”

“Oh, Jaejoong. No, Jaejoong you don’t have to ask. Not anymore. You don’t ever has to ask me. You’ve never needed to, really.” His body thrums at these words, thinking _equalequalequal_ , and he gasps as Yunho’s lips drag up his neck to suck underneath his ear, bite his lobe, and Yunho’s name flows from his lips like it had the first time he’s said it in bed: constant, fast, with Yunho’s hand on his cock as his body finally breaks under the assault. “Beautiful,” he hears Yunho murmur, “so beautiful.” But still he cuddles Jaejoong, waits until his breathing slows, kissing his cheeks, and it isn’t until their mouths find each other that Yunho’s hips pick up speed, stutter, and Jaejoong guides him gently, fingers tracing his spine, lips on the edge of his jaw as he yells from the force of his orgasm. It’s nearly enough to get Jaejoong worked up again but he’s just _so happy_ he can’t be bothered to care, pleased to just hold Yunho, cradle him until his tremors subside, lips against the crown of his head.

They kiss before they’re able to speak.

Jaejoong thinks back to the first time they’d had sex, thinks about how Yunho had coaxed him with questions and gentle touches and he smiles, memories thick in his mind. He’s turned gently, arms collected at the front of Yunho’s chest, waist pulled close to Yunho with one hand. 

“What?” Yunho asks, tracing the upturn of his lip.

“Just—thinking. You’ve been so good to me.”

“I love you,” Yunho says, as an explanation.

“You’re it for me,” Jaejoong whispers, “I don’t—I don’t ever want anyone else.”

“I don’t want you to want anyone else.” The twinkle in is eye makes Jaejoong think Yunho is reminiscing as well, and his next word confirms it. “Yes?” he asks, pushing a bit of Jaejoong’s hair behind his ears.

“Yes,” Jaejoong laughs, and they kiss until they fall asleep.

 

— 

 

The coins stay locked in the chest, tucked carefully back into the corner of Jaejoong’s wardrobe. He catches sight of it every now and then, a warm glow settling around him and he thinks _mine_. 

The gold is never spent.


End file.
